PS 

1235 
B15 
63 


LIBRARY 

OHIVKRSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
(AN  OIE60         J 


•PS 

- 


l. 


THE 


GARDEN    GATE, 


AND 


OTHER    POEMS, 


BY  CHARLES  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 


BOSTON: 
HENRY    L.     SHEPA  R.D,    &    C  O. 

(Successors  to  Shepard  &  Gill.) 

1877. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congres,  in  the  year  1874,  by 

SAMUEL  B.    HOWARD, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


SAMUEL   B.   HOWARD..   PRIVTEB, 


Electrotyped  by  the 
BAY  STATE  ELECTEOTYPE  Co., 

15  CornMill,  Boston. 


TO  HIS   FRIEND   AND   FORMER    PASTOR, 

THE  ET.  REV.  F.  D.  HUNTINGTON,  D.  D., 

THIS    LITTLE    VOLUME,    BY    PERMISSION,    IS   MOST 

GRATEFULLY  AND  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED 

BY    THE     AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 

THESE  fragments  of  poetry  have  mostly  been 
published,  from  time  to  time,  in  public  Journals  of 
high  moral,  religious  and  literary  standing,  in  this 
country  and  abroad.  The  author  trusts  that  they 
will  be  acceptable  in  this  gathered  form,  to  his 
Subscribers  and  other*.  C.  W.  B. 


ON  THE  GARDEN  GATE,           ....  9 

THE  SINGERS,                                 .            •            •  11 

THE  WANDERING  STARS,         ....  14 

THOMAS  STARR  KING,        .            .            .            .  .13 

OUR  HISTORY,               .            .            .            •            .  18 

BEETHOVEN,            .            .            .            .            .  .16 

A  THOUGHT  IN  SORROW,                                           *  20 
AT  REST,                  ......      21 

THE  OCEAN  AND  LAND  TELEGRAPH,              .           .  23 

CHRISTMAS  BELLS,            .            .            .            .  .27 

No  SONG  FOR  WAR,                  ....  25 

THE  TOILERS,        .            .            .            .            .  .28 

BISHOP   RANDALL,        ...  .32 

HYMN  TO  THE  CONQUERER            .            .            .  •      33 

BEAUTIFUL  DAYS,                    ....  34 

A  NEW  YEAR'S  HYMN,                ....  36 

DEEP  AND  STILL,               .            .            .           •  .38 

FESTIVE  DAYS,                         ....  40 

MRS.  L.  H.  SIGOURNET,                 .            .            .  .42 

WASHINGTON'S  BIRTHDAY,      ....  44 

THE  FAITHFDLL  DEAD,                 .            .            .  .46 

CHARLES  SUMNER,        .....  49 

ANGELS  GUARD  THE  SAINTED  DEAD,      .           .  .50 

A  HYMN  OF  LIFE,         .            .           ...  52 

AGE  OF  SINGING,  ..>»..        54 

FAITHFUL  HOMES,       ,           .           r           •           .  56 


IV.  CONTENTS 


A  SUMMER  SONG,               .           ,  .            .           .58 

EZRA  STILES  GANNETT,  D.  D.  .           .            .            61 

OUR  FRIEND  FOURSCORE,              .  .           .            .62 

EDWARD  N.  KIRK,  D.  D.         .  .            .            .            65 

THE   SLEEP  OF   His  BELOVED,  .            .        ,   .      66 

THEY  ARE  WITH  Us,      ...  .            .        68 

BENJAMIN  TYLER  REED,          .  .            .            .            69 

DEPARTED  YEARS,                     .  .               .                70 

THE  PRESENT  AND  THE  PAST,          .  .               .72 

BARON   STOW,  •                        .  .             .              .74 

THE  TIDES  OF  LIFE,                    .  .               -           76 

GRANT  Us  THY  PEACE,        .  .               .                .78 

OUR  PERFECT  DAYS,                   .  .               .80 

MRS.  HARRISON  GRAY  OTIS,  .               .               .81 

THE  WORLD  ABOVE  Us,           .  .               .82 

THOMAS  BULFINCH,              .  .               .               .84 

A  SUMMER'S  RHYME,    .               .  .               .86 

AMONG  THE  ROSES,              ...  88 

VOICES  OF  THE  DAYS,                   .  •  .               .            89 

WE  MAY  NOT  TELL,              .  .               .                .     92 

THANKSGIVING  HYMN,                  .  .               .94 

THE   SOLDIER'S  LAST   MESSAGE,  .               .                .96 

THE  CONQUERER  OF  ALL,           .-  .               .98 
LIGHTEN  OUR  DARKNESS,    ....  100 

BEAUTY  OF  THE  PSALMS,              .  .               .102 

A  GOLDEN   TRUTH,               .  .               .                 105 
BIRTHDAY  POEMS,         ....          106 

THE  PEACE  OF  GOD,            .  .               .                 m 

CHRISTMAS  BELLS,        .                .  .               .112 

EMPIRES,                   .                .  .                .                  114 

LOVING  AND  KNOWING,              .  .              .116 

EASTER  HYMN,        ....  Us 

EASTER   MORNING,        .               .  .               .120 

THE  CHURCH  OF   GOD,          .  .               .               122 

AT  THE  PARTING  OF  THE  WAYS,  .               .          125 


CONTENTS. 


THE   FOREST   WANDERER,   .                .               .  128 

FATHER  OF   ALL  WHO  LOVE  THY  NAME,                .  130 

MY   NATIVE.  LAND,               ...  132 

IN  THE   MORNING,        .                .                .                .  134 

THE  DYING   YEAR,               .             .  .               .  136 

A  WORLD'S  INVOCATION,             .               ,-               .  138 

THE   GIFTS  OF  THE  EARTH,               .               .  140 

BEAUTY   IN  DECAY,       ....  142 

A  VOICE  TO  THE   SINGERS,               .               .  144 

LIFE-TIME'S  DREAM,                    .       ,        .               .  148 

THE    CITY    OF  THE   SOUL,                 .               .  146 

THE   POWER  OF  DEEDS,             ...  151 

THE   SEASONS,        .               .               .               .  152 

FANNV  FERN,                ....  153 

BISHOP  EASTBURN,               .               •               *  154 

To  A   SINGER,              ....  156 


POEMS. 


ON  THE  GARDEN  GATE. 

The  little  boy  on  the  garden  gate 

Sings  and  swings. 

He  dreameth  not  of  the  march  of  fate, 
How  the  hours  will  glide,  and  the  heart  must  wait 

For  the  prize  to  which  it  clings. 
He  thinketh  now  that  his  boyhood  time 
Will  ripen  soon  into  manhood's  prime, 
And  honor,  and  riches,  and  great  renown 
May  send  his  name  to  the  ages  down. 
He  gazeth  south  and  he  gazeth  north, 
He  swingeth  back  and  he  swingeth  forth, 
And  his  heart  beats  high,  as  the  heart  of  kings, 
For  his  soul  is  poised  on  the  future's  wings. 

The  little  boy  on  the  garden  gate 

Swings  and  sings. 
He  loitereth  there  till  the  hour  is  late, 


10  THE   GARDEN   GATE 

And  his  heart  grows  large  with  a  joy  innate, 

At  life's  upwelling  springs. 
For  the  gladdening  present,  the  nights  and  days 
Are  the  stars  that  guide  into  happy  'ways. 
He  thinks  of  the  flowers  and  the  streams  that  rise 
Under  his  feet  'neath  the  glancing  skies. 
He  looketh  east  and  he  looketh  west. 
Till  the  day  has  gone  to  its  glorious  rest ; 
For  his  soul  is  dreaming  of  beautiful  things, 
And  his  heart  beats  high  as  the  heart  of  kings. 

The  little  boy  on  the  garden  gate 

Sings  and  swings. 

He  will  stand  not  long  ;  he  will  cease  to  wait, 
On  the  outward  march  of  an  inward  fate, 

Or  wild  imaginings. 

He  may  rise  into  manhood's  lofty  pride, 
And  virtue  and  beauty  his  course  may  guide ; 
He  may  stand  as  a  rock,  on  the  common  mart, 
He  may  win  his  way  to  the  world's  great  heart ; 
He  may  win  his  honors  and  wear  his  crown, 
And  the  false  and  the  base  at  his  feet  lie  down. 
That  is  the  boy  who  swings  and  sings, 
On  the  garden  gate,  that  sings  and  swings  ; 
He  may  stand  one  day  with  the  best  of  kings. 


AND   OTHER  POEMS.  11 


THE    SINGERS. 

When  I  hear  some  stirring  lyric, 

Sung  by  one  whose  heart  is  true, 
How  the  deep  full  soul  of  music 

Thrills  me  through  and  through ! 
How  I  bless  the  mental  master 

For  his  working  nobly  wrought, 
For  the  rich,  unfathomed  treasure 

Of  his  mine  of  thought ! 

Then  I  know  that  life  hath  glory 

Higher  than  these  earthly  skies, 
That  its  still,  unspoken  story, 

Ends  in  paradise ! 
Then  I  know  that  frail  and  mortal, 

Are  not  written  on  the  heart  — 
Life  divine  and  love  eternal 

Are  its  better  part. 

Theirs  may  be  the  anthem  lofty, 
'Neath  the  Church's  arched  dome, 

Or  the  humbler  song  most  tuneful, 
Of  the  halls  of  home. 


12  THE    GARDEN   GATE 

All  the  voices  of  the  singers 
Fill  me  with  a  thrill  of  joy  — 

They  are  kin  unto  the  angels 
In  their  blest  employ  ! 

Theirs  may  be  the  solemn  dirge-notes, 

Breathed  where  willows  wave, 
Sung  by  Hope  and  Trust,  the  guardians 

Of  an  open  grave  ! 
Passing  sweet  above  all  others 

In  the  free  air,  'neath  the  skies, 
Is  the  hope-song  for  our  brothers 

That  the  dead  shall  rise. 

Sing  forever,  oh,  ye  singers, 

Earth  hath  need  of  all  your  songs ; 
Of  the  joy- crowned  and  the  grieved  ones, 

Earth  hath  countless  throngs  ! 
Hearts  are  waiting  on  your  footsteps, 

On  your  voices'  sound  — 
For  the  life  of  souls  is  deepened, 

Where  your  songs  abound ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  13 


THOMAS  STARR  KING. 

There  is  a  world  of  light  and  fadeless  glory, 

Where  love  is  endless  and  where  souls  are  crowned, 

Where  hearts  are  true,  and  beauteous  is  their  story,— 
And  such  a  realm  our  friend  beloved  has  found  1 

There,  is  the  Master  whom  his  soul  adored, 
There,  is  the  Father  unto  whom  he  prayed  ; 

There,  is  the  rest  for  which  his  heart  implored, 
There,  is  the  laborer  and  the  laborer's  shade! 

His  work  is  there,  the  higher  ministration 
The  worlds  are  open  to  his  spirit  now ; 

And  Christ's  own  hands  are  laid  in  confirmation, — • 
The  dews  immortal  lie  upon  his  brow ! 

Call  him  not  dead !     He  still  is  ours  forever, 
He  standeth  yet  upon  God's  holy  hill, — 

May  we  with  him,  When  earthly  ties  shall  sever, 
Pass  to  the  life  immortal,  calm  and  still. 


14  THE   GARDEN   GATE 


THE  WANDERING  STARS. 

The  wandering  stars  are  hastening  back  — 

Lo  !  one  by  one  they  come  ; 
See  !  glory's  in  their  shining  track, 

Now  shout  them  welcome  home  ! 
They've  wandered  long,  in  darkness  lost, 

Bedewed  with  fiery  rains  ; 
Give  welcomes  to  our  tempest  tost, 

On  our  celestial  plains  ! 

The  wandering  stars  are  hastening  back  ; 

They  tire  of  restless  change, 
They  seek  a  smooth  and  even  track, 

Their  new  one  was  so  strange. 
Give  welcome  with  a  right  good  will, 

To  all  who  cease  to  roam  ; 
The  Northern  stars  are  brothers  still, 

To  those  who  long  for  home  ! 

The  wandering  stars  are  hastening  back, 
The  old,  bright  love  they  see  — 

The  household  fires,  the  beaten  track, 
The  same  ancestral  tree. 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  15 

The  same  undying,  songful  streams, 

The  same  glad  flowers  appear, 
The  same  blue  sky,  the  starry  gleams, 

The  same  revolving  year. 

Then  welcome  to  these  wandering  stars 

Who  seek  out  pathways  old  ; 
"Who  scorn  the  flag  of  sable  bars 

With  scorn  most  manifold  ! 
"  No  North — nor  South — nor  East — nor  West," 

Shall  be  our  rallying  tone  ! 
"  One  land,  one  realm  by  freedom  blest, 

Where  God  will  keep  His  own  !" 


16  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


BEBTHOBV1N. 

Tried,  forsaken,  lone  Beethoeven, 
Now  the  world  thy  worth  hath  proven, 

All  the  world  can  speak  thy  praise ; 
In  the  blush  of  life's  bright  morning, 
Lo  !  she  turned  away  in  scorning, 

Now  she  listens  to  thy  lays. 

Thou  didst  sing  like  one  in  glory, 
Yet  how  shadowed  is  thy  story 

To  the  dark  and  bitter  end  ; 
When  the  hour  of  parting  neared  thee, 
Few  the  living  hearts  that  cheered  thce, 

Few  who  knew  thee  as  their  friend. 

Still  thy  wondrous  powers  were  glowing, 
Working  for  the  world  unknowing, 

Thankless  as  her  voices  came  ; 
Mighty  genius  could  not  slumber, 
Though  a  world-host  without  number 

Sought  to  qr.ench  the  burning  flame. 

Oh,  how  dreary  was  thy  going 
Through  the  tides  of  death  o'erflowing, 
To  thy  glad  home  in  the  skies, 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  17 

Only  one  friend  by  that  river 
Where  we  mortals  stand  and  shiver, 
Though  it  lead  to  paradise  ! 

And  thy  voice  of  earnest  speaking, 
And  thine  eye  a  true  friend  seeking, 

Now  in  vision  on  us  call ; 
When  thy  lips  breathed  very  slowly 
With  a  spirit  meek  and  holy  — 

"I  have  talent,  after  all." 

Oh,  beloved  and  grand  Beethoeven, 
In  the  fires  of  trial  proven, 

Time  has  made  thy  darkness  day  ; 
In  the  melodies  of  singing, 
Music  from  thy  soul  is  ringing, 

That  shall  never  pass  away. 

Surely  thou  hast  found  thy  station, 
From  thy  wrongs  hast  found  salvation, 

Reached  the  gates  of  peace  sublime  ; 
Oh,  that  earth  would  heed  thy  story, 
Give  her  sons  of  genius  glory, 

While  they  shine  lone  stars  of  time. 


L8  THE    GARDEN   GATE 


OUR    HISTORY. 

The  nation  trembles  in  God's  hand, 

He  bids  it  fall,  he  bids  it  stand, 

Both  peace  and  strife  work  His  command. 

He  weaves  the  patriot's  funeral  pall, 
He  crowns  the  heroes  when  they  fall, 
He  is  the  Guide,  the  Lord  of  all. 

He  searches  out  the  deepest  night, 
The  deed  of  darkness  brings  to  light, 
And  moulds  it  by  His  Sovereign  might ! 

He  sees  oppression's  deed  of  wrong, 
And  hears  the  proud  exultant  song, 
He  will  not  make  it  sure  nor  strong. 

'Where'er  the  thought  of  wrong  is  nurst, 
His  unseen  hand  strikes  down  at  first, 
The  evil  is  by  Him  accurst. 

He  keeps  the  firm,  the  true,  the  brave, 
He  gives  them  victory  o'er  the  grave  ; 
He  smites  the  fetters  from  the  slave. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  19 

He  holds  the  tyrant's  heart  in  scorn  ; 
Unless  it  yields,  and  is  new-born, 
He  leaves  it  helpless  and  forlorn. 

He  loveth  freedom  ;  let  him  take 
Our  dearest,  for  his  own  dear  sake. 
He  owns  the  sacrifice  we  make  ! 

We  kneel  in  our  Gethsemane 

And  say  :  Let  this  cup  pass  from  me ; 

His  strengthening  Angel  there  we  see. 

Yet  by  this  struggle  and.  this  pain, 
These  hosts  that  meet  ours  with  disdain, 
A  nation  shall  be  born  again  ! 

Our  sainted  heroes  robed  in  light 

Shall  guard  our  path,  though  from  our  sight. 

The  day  seems  glooming  into  night. 

Their  eyes  shall  watch  us  till  we  bring 
To  our  eternal  God  and  King,     , 
Our  freedom's  holy  offering ! 


20  THE   GARDEN   GATE 


A  THOUGHT  IN   SORROW. 

Weep  not  —  the  hopes  which  seem  to  die, 
Are  but  the  seeds  of  fadeless  flowers, 

That  ripen  in  a  brighter  sky 

Than  in  these  darkened  skies  of  ours. 

Weep  not  —  the  world  with  all  its  change 
Will  give  us  yet  some  boon  to  prize, 

And  lights  which  now  to  us  are  strange, 
Will  beam  with  gladness  on  our  eyes. 

Hope  —  Faith  —  and  Love  —  our  vigils  still, 
While  Joy  or  Grief  around  us  stand ; 

We  bow  unto  their  sovereign  will, 
And  ever  seek  the  better  land. 

We  seek  a  rest  we  have  not  known, 
We  toil  we  pray  —  and  then  we  wait, 

Till  some  good  angel  from  His  throne 

Stoops  down,  and  leads  us  through  the  gate. 


AND  OTHER  POEMS.  21 


AT    REST. 

They  are  at  rest,  who  dreamless  sleep 

The  countless  years  away  ; 
They  toil  no  more,  they  sigh  nor  weep, 

Nor  see  their  hopes  decay. 

They  are  at  rest,  whose  light  of  life 
Streams  through  celestial  skies  ; 

They  hear  no  voice  of  angry  strife, 
But  love's  grand  chorus  rise. 

Nor  storm  nor  tempest  shall  be  known, 
Nor  clouds  obscure  their  sky  ; 

They  lose  no  treasures  once  their  own, 
And  they  shall  never  die. 

They  are  at  rest  who  dreamless  sleep, 

And  yet  they  seem  to  rise 
Like  angel  guards,  their  watch  to  keep, 

Where  our  life's  pathway  lies. 


22  THE    GARDEN   GATE 

We  need  them  all ;   for  they  are  ours, 
Though  they  above  us  shine, 

And  daily  use  their  unseen  powers, 
Our  ministers  divine. 

Our  souls  are  linked  by  golden  chains  ; 

Our  hearts  are  true  e'ermore, 
Our  father's  house  hath  large  domains, 

Behold  the  open  door ! 


AND  OTHER  POEMS.  23 


THE  OCEAN  AND  LAND  TELEGRAPH. 

0  the  glor  j  of  to-day  ! — 
That  will  shine  in  Time  alway  ; 
Power  of  deed,  and  bliss  of  thought, 
By  the  human  soul  enwrought. 

Words  above  us  sounded  be, 
Words  beneath  us  in  the  sea, 
And  the  isles  their  beauty  draw 
From  one  great,  mysterious  law. 

Daily  more  and  more  unfold, 
Gates  of  glory,  gates  of  gold  ! 
Daily,  heights  and  depths  are  known, 
Once  we  durst  not  call  our  own. 

Thought  is  boundless,  thought  is  free, 
Under  and  above  the  sea  ! 
Sounding  deep  in  ocean  caves, 
Surging  in  unnumbered  waves. 

Thought  is  whispered  round  the  earth, 
In  her  day  of  second  birth  — 


24  THE   GARDEN   GATE 

Coming  nearer  to  the  goal, 

In  the  grand  world  of  the  soul. 

O,  ye  Ages,  bring  your  toil, 
Bring  your  triumphs,  bring  your  spoil, 
Bring  your  trophies  new  and  vast ; 
Bless  your  present  and  your  past. 

Bless  the  thinkers,  on  your  way, 
"Who  have  wrought  this  triumph  day ; 
Who  have  turned  their  thought  to  deed, 
Answered  well  our  day's  true  need. 

Though  the  thinkers  long  may  stand, 
On  some  far  unwelcome  strand, 
Longing  for  their  being's  prime, 
They  shall  see  their  promised  time. 

Speak,  0  voice  of  Love  and  Peace, 
Bid  the  trump  of  war  to  cease  — 
For  its  muffled  tone-beat,  bring 
Hearts  that  throb  and  hearts  that  sing. 

Speak,  0  Land,  and  chant,  0  Sea, 
Our  sweet  anthem  of  the  free ! 
Power  of  deed  and  bliss  of  thought, 
In  this  work  that  man  hath  wrought. 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  25 


NO  SONG  FOR  WAR. 

No  more,  no  more,  a  song  for  war  ; 

The  land  hath  known  her  share  of  strife  ; 
What  do  we  hate  each  other  for  ? 

Why  desolate  the  field  of  life  ? 
Why  seek  by  blood  that  quick  release 
Which  cometh  through  the  gate  of  Peace  ? 
Oh  !  shame  on  those  who  fain  would  gain 
One  seeming  good  by  War's  dread  reign. 

What  wrong  is  suffered  but  hath  known 

One  hour  its  selfhood  to  dethrone  ? 
Some  moment  ever  lives,  when  we 

May  bid  the  great  wrong  cease  to  be ; 
And  by  the  fitting  course  of  things, 
The  right  and  true  triumphant  springs. 
Oh  !  shame  on  those  who  fain  would  gain 
One  seeming  good  by  War's  dread  reign. 


26  THE    GARDEN   GATE 

The  North,  the  South,  the  East,  the  West, 

By  mutual  ties  are  blent  and  T)lest ; 
And  all  in  every  pain  must  share  — 

In  every  joy,  or  grief,  or  care  ; 
Whate'er  the  wrong,  all  bear  a  part, 
For  one  is  our  great  Nation's  heart. 
Oh  !  shame  on  those  who  fain  would  gain 
One  seeming  good  by  War's  dread  reign. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  27 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS. 

Ring  out,  ye  bells,  from  all  your  towers, 
And  chime  for  time's  receding  hours. 
'Tis  holy  time  !  —  the  Bethlehem  star 
Is  radient  now,  anear  and  far  — 
The  hallowed  joy  around  is  shed, 
Where  angel  hosts  are  earthward  led ! 
A  song  of  Peace  —  to  men  good  will, 
And  then  that  heavenly  choir  is  still. 
Ring  out,  ring  in,  0  Christmas  bells, 
The  day  which  God's  true  Prophet  tells  ; 
Bring  here,  0  pilgrim,  tried  by  time, 
A  life  most,  holy  and  sublime. 
For  this  Judean  deserts  sang, 
For  this  the  choral  anthem  rang, 
And  all  the  ages  take  their  song 
And  bear  its  blessed  notes  along ; 
And  yet  'twill  bear,  while  time  shall  be, 
The  deathless  anthem  of  the  free  ! 
For  Earth's  full  heart  with  rapture  swells, 
To  hear  the  chimes  of  Christmas  bells ! 


28  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


THE  „  POETS. 

They  wait,  the  patient  toilers  wait, — 

The  toilers  of  the  mind  ; 
They  stand  at  Fame's  beleaguered  gate 

Till  Fame  to  them  is  kind. 

But  who  are  these  who  toil  on  earth  ? 

Who  send  their 'thoughts  abroad? 
Who  prove  their  own  celestial  birth 

A  heritage  from  God  ? 

Dwell  they  in  lordly  palace  hall, 

In  regal  pomp  and  pride  ? 
Hear  they  the  spirit's  inmost  call, 

Where  thought  is  deified  ? 

Not  there  ;  the'  mountains  have  no  place 
Nor  outward  throne  for  them. 

The  valley's  shade,  the  spirit's  grace, 
Their  shield  and  diadem  ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  29 

They  walk  through  earth  with  want  and  pain, 

Companions  all  the  way, 
The  inward  kingdom  is  their  gain, 

The  inward  light,  their  day  ! 

They  see  the  mean  in  places  high  ; 

They  see  the  high  brought  low  ; 
How  wealth  and  rank  and  power  may  vie 

With  mind's  far  richer  glow. 

They  toil,  they  wait, —  in  sorrow  wait ; 

They  hear  no  answering  cry  ; 
They  famish  close  by  Plenty's  gate  ; 

They  struggle  and  they  die  ! 

Then  from  the  earth,  once  stern  and  cold, 
There  comes  one  voice  of  praise, 

The  poet's  verse  is  new,  not  old ; 
It  fills  immortal  days. 

Enwreathe  his  grave  with  fairest  flowers ; 

There  let  the  marble  gleam  ; 
Tell  Art  and  Time  with  all  your  powers 

The  beauty  of  his  dream ! 


30  THE   GARDEN    GATE 

There  read  the  song  that  once  was  dark 

With  night  of  human  ill, 
Which  knew  no  shining  eye  to  mark 

The  place  his  name  should  fill ! 

Wake  bj  the  lofty  singer's  grave 
New  thought,  for  genius  born, 

And  call  that  spirit  true  and  brave  ; 
It  braved  the  world's  rude  scorn  ! 

And  as  the  poet's  hymn  shall  rise 
Within  your  bright  abode, 

Think  of  the  black,  ungenial  skies 
That  marked  that  singer's  road  ! 

He  stood  on  mental  heights  for  you  ; 

For  you  his  life-long  prayer  ; 
Baptized  in  griefs  unwelcome  dew, 

He  breathed  in  pensive  air. 

He  makes  you  rich  in  mind  to-day  ; 

New  worlds  in  beauty  spring 
Where  erst  the  old  held  potent  sway, 

Till  you  can  speak  and  sing. 


AND  f  OTHER   POEMS.  31 

Though  built  on  thought,  life  blent  with  life  ; 

This  is  the  law  of  heaven ; 
God's  prophets  come,  though  days  of  strife 

Are  with  their  coming  given  ! 

They  speak  to  us,  and  we  to  them  ; 

They  hear  our  answering  tones, 
Behold  the  diamond  and  the  gem 

In  valleys  as  on  thrones. 

For  poets  are  God's  prophets  still, 

Whate'er  their  spirit  clime  ; 
No  outward  good  can  reach  their  meed, 

Nor  life  be  too  sublime ! 


32  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


BISHOP    RANDALL. 

Well  may  the  faithful  take  their  life-won  crown, 
And  go  with  joy  to  hear  their  Lord's  "  well  done  ;" 

Their  armor  bright,  in  sacred  dust  lay  down, 
To  rest  when  day  is  gone. 

When  day  is  gone !     Day  never  wanes  for  them 
Who  view,  by  faith,  the  Star  of  Bethlehem ! 

Our  friend  was  faithful  to  the  glorious  end, — 
Let  memory  now  his  precious  name  enshrine. 

To  live  is  blest,  when  all  our  heart-aims  tend 
To  works  that  are  divine  ! 

True  hearts  are  His ;  his  new  life-sphere  is  where 
There  is  no  death  nor  any  shade  of  care  ! 


AND  OTHER    POEMS. 


HYMN   TO   THE   CONQUERER. 

Clothed  with  the  light  and  the  grace  of  a  hero, 
Forth  goes  the  brave  to  the  battle  of  life  ; 

He  shall  be  conqueror,  though  time  were  a  Nero, 
He  shall  be  Master  of  masterly  strife. 

Clothed  in  the  armor  that  never  decay eth, 
Vested  with  strength  enobling  —  divine, 

Soul,  in  life's  war-land,  the  Mighty  One  stayeth 
Thee,  with  the  glory  that  ever  is  thine  ! 

Where  is  the  way  His  light  hath  not  entered  ? 

Where  is  the  valley  by  Him  left  alone  ? 
Where  is  the  teacher  whose  voice  hath  not  uttered 

The  value  the  True  One  hath  marked  on  His  own? 

Soul  of  the  faithful,  doubt  not  the  morrow, 

He  w'ho  hath  blest  thee  with  shade  and  with  sun, 

Looks  with  His  eye  on  the  night  of  thy  sorrow, 
Looks  on  the  life-race  that  grandly  is  run  ! 


34  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


BEAUTIFUL    DAYS. 

Beautiful  days  of  the  Autumn  hours 

Marking  the  flight  of  the  dying  year ; 
Shedding  their  light  on  the  fading  flowers, 

Raying  with  glory  the  prone  leaves  sere. 
Oh !  how  they  speak  with  a  living  voice, 
Bidding  the  soul  in  her  might  rejoice  ; 
Gladening  the  heart  in  the  midst  of  bloom, 
Fading  and  shrinking  away  to  the  tomb. 

Beautiful  days,  when  the  blossoms  fall 

Into  the  dust,  in  the  silence  given  ; 

Breathing  a  charm  and  a  hymn  for  all, 

Who  see  in  her  shading  some  hue  of  Heaven. 
Then  the  long  past  as  a  vision  comes,        ^ 
Greeting  our  hearts  and  blessing  our  homes ; 
And  the  life  and  the  beauty  that  blesses  the  eye, 
Speaks  of  a  summer  that  never  shall  die. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  35 

Beautiful  days  of  the  Autumn  time, 

Prophets  are  ye  of  an  hour  of  bloom  ; 
When  the  life  within  us  shall  arise  sublime, 

And  the  song  of  our  freedom  shall  sound  o'er 

our  tomb  ; 
When  the  hopes  that  have  perished  shall  bud  in  the 

Spring, 
And  the  faith  that  we  cherished  shall  gladden  her 

wing; 
When  the  soul  shall  grow  hoary,  and  peaceful  and 

wise, 
And  our  wonderful  being  shall  soar  to  the  skies. 


36  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  HYMN. 

(Sunday,  1865.) 

0  Thou  by  whom  the  years  are  born, 

The  moments  come  and  go, 
We  thank  thee  for  this  full-orbed  morn, 

Enwreathed  with  winter's  snow  ! 

We  thank  thee  for  the  gliding  feet 
That  press  our  household  floors, 

And  the  dear  delights  we  meet 
Within  our  cottage-doors  ! 

We  thank  thee  that  this  day  of  rest 
Hath  rung  the  New  Year's  chime, 

And  all  the  peace  that  fills  our  breast 
At  this  thrice  holy  time. 

For  we  have  heard  the  Christmas  hymn 

Fall  on  our  listening  ear, 
As  through  the  valleys,  deep  and  dim, 

Hath  passed  the  dying  year. 


AND    OTHER  POEMS  37 

We  thank  thee  for  the  living  brave, 

Who  faced  the  nation's  foes, 
For  all  the  flowers  of  love  that  wave 

Where  heroes  dead  repose  ! 

We  thank  thee  for  the  chimes  of  peace, 

By  faithful  patriots  rung  ; 
Bring  near  the  day  of  sweet  release, 

By  thine  own  angels  sung. 

The  year  is  thine,  0  God  most  high ! 

Thou  art  its  Lord  alone  ; 
Bid  freedom  live,  oppression  die, 

Give  Liberty  her  own  ! 


38  THE    GARDEN     GATE 


DEEP    AND    STILL. 

Deep  and  still,  deep  and  still, 
Is  the  working  of  God's  will, 
When  it  doth  our  spirits  fill ! 

When  His  shining  countenance, 
Answers  to  our  upward  glance, 
How  faith's  footsteps  all  advance ! 

Into  soundless  depths  we  go, 
From  great  joy  to  utter  woe  ; 
Everywhere  His  lifetides  flow  ! 

Where  the  paths  of  glory  rise, 
By  the  life  of  sacrifice 
We  regain  our  paradise ! 

Now  the  soul  all  dark  within. 
Leaves  its  world  of  strife  and  sin, 
Heavenward  looking,  entereth  in  ! 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  '     89 

Now  the  heart  weeps  o'er  the  lost, 
Tried,  bereft  and  tempest  tost, 
Till  the  stormy  sea  be  crossed  ! 

Now  some  memory  of  the  heart, 

Plunges  there  its  barbed  dart, 

Till  the  still  voice  breathes  "  depart." 

Then  a  tranquil  holy  peace, 
Bids  the  vengeful  tempest  cease, 
And  the  silent  calm  increase  ! 

Not  by  voice  on  Sinai  spoke, 
Is  the  spell  of  sadness  broke, 
Nor  the  spirit's  galling  yoke  ! 

Not  by  lightning's  vivid  fire, 
Not  by  days  of  judgment  dire? 
Bids  he  earthliness  expire  ! 

But  the  pathways  of  his  grace, 
In  the  silences,  we  trace, — 
There  we  meet  him  face  to  face ! 


40  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


THE    FESTIVE    DAYS. 

• 

When  the  festive  days  are  past, 

Memory  still  will  linger  there  ; 
Thinking  of  the  pleasures  vast 

In  our  life-fields  everywhere  : 
For  we  may  not  live  or  move, 

But  some  joy  shall  yet  abound, 
Some  dear  heart  shall  call  for  love, 

Some  sweet  voice  to  ours  resound ; 
And  its  echoes,  tender,  true, 

In  our  deepest  heart  shall  fall, 
"We  shall  bless  the  hour,  that  knew, 

Hallowed  days  and  gifts  for  all. 

"When  the  festive  days  are  past, 
Let  us  gather  grains  of  gold, 

From  those  mines  unfathomed  vast, 
Hearts  and  hands  have  never  told. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  41 

Countless  thoughts,  outspoken  words, 

Hidden  in  the  soul's  recess, 
Waiting  for  new  spirit  chords 

Yet  to  answer  and  to  bless. 
Let  the  brotherhood  within 

Manifest  its  living  power  ; 
So  shall  we  life's  victories  win, 

Day  by  day,  and  hour  by  hour. 


42  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


MEMORIAL  TRIBUTE  TO  MRS.  L.  H. 
SIGOURNEY. 

Blest  be  our  poet's  gentle  sleep, 
Whose  soul  is  now  to  glory  born  ; 

Whose  heart  condoled  with  sorrow  deep, 
And  sang  with  joy's  celestial  morn  ; 

Who  touched  her  spirit's  lyric  chords 

To  gentle  thoughts  and  loving  words ! 

Her  heart  inspired  by  living  fire, 
Sang  ever  to  the  good  and  true. 

She  glorified  each  grand  desire 
With  Heaven's  baptismal  dew  — 

While  here  and  there  out-breathes  a  tone 

A  Hemans  well  might  seek  to  own. 

She  stood  so  meekly  in  the  crowd 

Who  gathered  where  her  shadow  came, 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  43 

So  calm  and  humble,  when  the  proud 
Grew  eloquent  to  speak  her  fame ! 
She  prized  far  more  our  heavenly  birth, 
Than  all  the  praises  of  the  earth. 

Oh  !  matchless  gift,  to  live  in  hearts, 

To  feel  that  we  can  never  die, 
To  know  the  true  life  ne'er  departs, 

But  that  the  spirit,  ever  nigh, 
Is  hovering  in  the  Heaven  above  — 
A  guardian  angel,  full  of  love. 

Then  blessed  be  our  poet's  sleep  ; 

'Tis  "  Past  Meridian  "  with  her  now  — 
With  holy  reverance  strong  and  deep, 

Enwreath  the  cypress  round  her  brow  ; 
A  Nation's  loving  heart,  in  vain 
May  seek  to  find  her  like  again ! 


44  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


WASHIGTON'S    BIRTHDAY. 

His  birthday  is  our  Nation's  pride  ; 

His  memory  lives  while  we  adore 
The  Providence  that  made  him  rise 

And  shine,  our  glory-star,  forevermore  ! 
Let  us  this  day  at  Freedom's  Temple  wait 
And  linger  there,  and  sacred  keep  its  gate ; 
For  he  is  speaking  from  his  own  bright  skies, 
To  cheer  our  hearts  for  this  day's  sacrifice. 

We  live  in  stirring  times  —  we  must  not  stay 
Where  traitors,  spelbound,  crouch,  to  wrong  ; 

The  night  has  passed  —  we  welcome  in  the  day  ; 
We  sing  no  dirge  —  we  chant  a  triumph  song. 

Our  Washington  is  here  —  his  spirit  still 

Is  urging  us  to  do,  to  dare,  to  will ; 

Upon  our  dead  a  nation's  welfare  lies, 

If  we  are  true  to  this  day's  sacrifice. 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  45 

We  live  forever  !  we  shall  rise  again  ; 

The  trump  of  war  shall  cease  and  we  shall  rest, 
In  beauty  rest  in  freedom's  wide  domain ; 

Chains  shall  be  broken,  and  no  heart,  unblcst, 
Shall  touch  our  hearts  with  pain  —  an  open  way 
To  guide  our  wanderers  unto  perfect  day  ; 
Unites  our  life,  our  hearts,  our  aims,  in  one 
Unfailing  tribute  to  our  WASHINGTON  ! 


46  TIIE   GARDEN    GATE 


THE   FAITHFUL  DEAD. 

"  \Ve  bless  Thee  for  all  thy  servants  departed  in  thy  faith  and 
fear." — Common  Prayer. 

For  all  who  died  in  holy  faith, 
The  brave,  the  good,  the  true  ; 

For  all  their  life's  full  record  saith, — 
Give  God  the  glory  due  ! 

Not  pain,  nor  scorn,  nor  sordid  gold 

.Could  turn  their  steps  aside  ; 
No  robber  steal  them  from  the  Fold, 

Since  Christ  their  Master  died. 

% 

They  counted  not  their  life-lease  dear, 
If  they  His  Crown  might  win 

Who  bore  our  griefs  and  burdens  here, 
To  save  the  race  from  sin ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  47 

No  monster's  rack,  no  fiery  flame, 

No  tyrant's  fearful  frown, 
Could  make  them  curse  the  Saviour's  name, 

Nor  lay  their  armor  down  ! 

Through  perils  on  the  waters  deep, 

With  brethren  false  and  blind, 
They  would  not  let  devotion  sleep, 

Nor  deem  their  Lord  unkind ! 

Through  every  scene  of  stormy  rage 

They  saw  the  glory  there  ! 
And  sealed  their  blood-bought  heritage, 

With  blessing  and  with  prayer ! 

They  closed  their  eyes  in  martyr-death, 

And  from  their  ashes  rose 
A  new  and  ceaseless  living  breath, 

That  knew  no  long  repose  ! 

And  thus  they  live,  and  brightly  glow, 

Like  flames  of  fadeless  fire  ; 
While  ages  come,  and  ages  go, 

Their  lives  will  not  expire. 


48  THE    GARDEN    GATE 

And  now  we  bless  Thee  0  our  .God ! 

For  all  who  died  in  Thee  ; 
The  shining  lights  they  shed  abroad, 

On  Time's  remotest  sea  ! 

Give  us  their  faith,  give  us  their  heart, 
Though  dark  our  earth-ways  be  ! 

Help  us  to  act  our  destined  part 
To  love  and  work  for  Thee  ! 


AND    OTHER    POOIS.  49 


CHARLES   SUMNER. 

* 
Call  not  this  honored  man  as  one 

Dead  to  the  world,  for  that  can  never  be ; 
Nations  will  live,  and  ages  still  pass  on ; 

His  name  will  gleam,  as  gleams  a  crystal  sea  ; 
True  to  himself,  to  highest  manhood  true  ; 

Give  to  him  now  the  meed  that  is  his  due. 

Breathe  forth  his  name,  when  men,  too  weak  in  soul, 
Stand  not  upright.     To  bid  the  best  cause  win, 

Breathe  forth  his  name,  and  write  it  on  the  goal 
That  we  would  reach,  above  Earth's  wrong  and  sin! 

Then  shall  his  memory  be  a  watchword  strong ! 

Then  shall  his  deeds  become  our  triumph  song ! 


50  THE     GARDEN    GATE 


ANGELS  GUARD  THE    SAINTED  DEAD. 

Angels  guard  the  sainted  dead, 

Let  them  rest  from  toil  and  care  ; 
With  the  blue  sky  overhead, 

And  the  breath  of  God's  free  air. 
Let  them  rest  where  light  and  shade, 

And  life's  changes  come  and  go  ; 
They  have  seen  its  visions  fade, 

They  have  left  its  pomp  and  show. 

Angels  guard  the  sainted  dead ! 

Not  alone  from  heavenly  skies, 
But  the  souls  they  comforted 

In  this  world  of  sacrifice. 
Grateful  hands  plant  willows  there, 

Buds  that  springtime  gave  shall  bloom, 
And  the  summer  noontide  fair 

Glorifies  their  peaceful  tomb. 

Angels  guard  the  sainted  dead ! 
Memory  loves  to  view  the  spot 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  51 

Where  their  living  presence  shed 

Blessings  on  our  earthly  lot  ; 
Then  the  graves  wherein  they  rest, 

Shall  no  more  the  spirit  view  ; 
From  the  mansions  of  the  blest 

Gleam  the  faces  old  and  true. 

Angels  guard  the  sainted  dead  ! 

This  the  voice  that  sounds  for  aye, 
When  our  tears  of  grief  are  shed 

O'er  earth's  loved  ones  passed  away : 
This  with  time  nor  change  departs ; 

Blest  the  dying  with  their  Lord, 
Blest  are  they  who  leave  on  hearts 

Love's  eternal  written  word. 

Angels  guard  the  sainted  dead  ! 

Then  the  deep  Cimerian  glooms 
Cannot  fill  our  souls  with  dread — 

There  are  watchers  round  our  tombs, 
And  they  beckon  us  to  come, 

When  the  chilling  death-wind  blows  ; 
When  we  make  our  journey  home, 

They  will  guard  our  sweet  repose. 


52  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


A  HYMN    OF    LIFE. 

What  is  grander  than  the  soul, 
Or  its  ages  as  they  roll  ? 
What  is  like  the  life  of  thought  ? 
Bid  it  die  and  we  are  nought. 

What  is  richer  than  a  word 
From  a  true  hearts  life-depths  stirred  ? 
What  is  sweeter  than  a  song, 
Making  spirits  free  and  strong  ? 

What  is  purer  than  the  air 
Giving  light  to  roses  fair  ? 
Brighter  colors  every  day 
To  the  blooms  that  fade  away. 

What  is  better  than  the  hour 
When  we  know  our  spirits  power  ? 
Higher  raise  our  thought  and  deed 
Looking  for  our  Heavenly  meed. 


AND     OTHER   POEMS.  53 

What  is  better  ?    We  have  trod 
Pathways  to  the  love  of  God  ! 
Love,  that  gave  their  being  birth, 
Love,  the  crown  of  all  the  earth. 

He  who  liveth  here  in  love 
Liveth  in  the  Heaven  above  ; 
He  that  loveth  not  is  dead, 
Though  his  life-spark  be  not  fled  ! 


54  THE   QARDEX    GATE 


AGE    OF   SINGING. 

Glorious  songs  the  Age  is  singing, 
Freedom  bells  their  chimes  are  ringing  — 
Ringing  for  the  abject  races, 
In  oppression's  foulest  places. 

Man  hath  learned  the  hidden  meaning 
Of  this  being  and  this  seeming, 
He  hath  heard  the  world's  choir  singing, 
And  the  bells  of  freedom  ringing. 

In  his  soul-recesses  lying, 
There  is  waked  a  voice  undying — 
Lifting  hearts  whose  great  endeavor 
Girds  the  ever  and  forever ! 

Up  through  long  and  tedious  marchings, 
With  their  varient  life-sky  archings, 
With  the  destinies  impending, 
March,  0  soul,  the  march  unending ! 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  55 

Skies  shall  lower,  and  skies  shall  brighten, 
Clouds  will  gloom,  and  light  will  lighten, 
Wondrous  still  thy  voiceless  story, 
Through  the  shadow,  to  the  glory  ! 

Age  of  real  and  dire  commotion, 
Heaving,  surging  like  an  ocean, 
Keep  thy  bells  of  Freedom  ringing, 
Till  the  earth  is  full  of  singing ! 


56  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


FAITHFUL    HOMES. 

Our  earthly  homes  are  full  of  joy  and  gladness, 
Our  friendships  there  like  hurning  stars  arise, 

And  AVC  are  one  in  every  hour  of  sadness  ; 
We  stand  together  'neath  the  changeful  skies  ; 

We  cannot  part,  though  dark  the  way  around  us, 

We're  one  in  heart,  for  many  ties  have  bound  us. 

• 

We  stand  together  when  our  hearts,  adoring, 
Lift  up  their  voices  to  the  Heaven  above, 

When  at  God's  throne  we  cast  our  eye  imploring 
For  deeper  trust  in  the  immortal  love  ; 

We  cannot  part,  though  clouds  may  lower  above  us, 

Heart  clings  to  heart,  we  know  the  souls  that  love  us. 

Seas  may  divirge  our  paths  —  yet  time  nor  distance 
Hold  not  the  power  to  bid  our  souls  estrange ; 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  57 

In  love's  deep  strength  there  is  a  bold  resistance 

To  that  dread  power  that  bids  the  true  heart  change, 
We  are  the  same,  our  households  severing  never, 
We  link  our  hearts  in  one,  forever  and  forever. 

So  shall  our  homes  become  the  blessed  portal 

Of  those  dear  mansions,  where  we  long  to  dwell ; 

Begin  we  here  the  life  and  love  immortal, 
Begin  we  here  eternal  joys  to  tell ; 

We  cannot  part,  for  earthly  storms  have  tried  us, 

We're  one  in  heart,  and  who  shall  then  divide  us  ? 


58  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


A    SUMMER    SONG. 

The  summer  flowers  must  fade  and  die 
The  summer  skies  must  change  their  hues, 

The  streams  be  closed,  that  murmur  by 
The  walks  of  earth,  our  footsteps  choose. 

Nature  is  proud  of  varied  things, 
She  nurtures  all  that  fills  her  range, 

She  cultures  fountains,  mountains,  springs, 
She  courts  the  wierd,  sublime  and  strange. 

Nature  is  prodigal  of  bliss, 

She  breathes  out  fragrance  on  the  air, 
She  thrills  the  human  heart,  and  this 

Seems  first  her  kind  maternal  care. 

Nature  is  tender  in  her  moods, 

When  soft  winds  fan  the  vales  below ; 

And  tender  in  the  solitudes 

Where  souls  reflective  haste  to  go. 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  59 

The  earth  is  voiceful  to  the  heart 

The  while  it  glows  with  dewy  green  ; 

The  very  dust  doth  feel  its  part 
Of  honor  in  the  various,  scene. 

The  trees  are  full  of  singing  birds, 
That  hymn  aloud  creation's  praise  ; 

The  air  itself  is  full  of  words, 

And  songs,  and  sweet,  melodious  lays. 

From  nature  to  the  soul  again, 

Let  us  in  calm  reflection  go  ; 
And  feel  within  the  stress  and  strain 

Of  tides  that  from  our  being  flow. 

There  the  divine  asserts  its  sway ; 

The  low,  the  base  degrades  the  soul, 
The  high,  the  pure  leads  on  to  day, 

Where  rivers  of  redemption  roll. 

Go  down,  0  man,  to  self  within, 

Behold  !  What  glorious  gifts  are  thine  ! 

What  conquests  over  death  and  sin ; 
What  mansions  in  the  Heart  Divine  ! 


60  THE    GARDEN    GATE 

Thy  nature  gleams  and  burns  .with  light, 
That  soon  or  late  Avill  shine  on  high, 

Where  angel  forms  are  clothed  with  might, 
And  hearts  made  pure  shall  never  die  ! 

0  that  our  lives  were  like  the  chords 
Of  perfect  harps,  all  tuned  and  strung  ! 

Then  we  should  utter  perfect  words, 
And  keep  our  hearts  forever  young ! 

For  this  the  sky,  the  stream,  the  tree, 
Seem  filled  with  the  profoundest  praise, 

For  this  grand  nature  seems  to  be 
Our  teacher,  in  her  silent  ways. 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  61 


EZRA   STILES  GANNETT,  D.  D. 

Break  not  the  calmness  of  his  sleep, 
Fond  memory,  stillness  is  thine  own ; 

The  guardian  angels  now  shall  keep 
God's  risen  servant  at  His  throne. 

Not  yet  the  grieving  hearts  should  speak, 
Let  Time  a  little  longer  roll  ; 

The  powers  of  thought  are  far  too  weak 
To  tell  his  eloquence  of  soul. 

For  time  must  deepen  every  thought 
Which  bids  that  loving  face  to  shine, 

And  his  dear  image  will  be  fraught 
With  light,  and  life,  and  deeds  divine. 

The  grave  is  not  his  fadeless  rest, 

He  sees  the  throne  where  seraphs  bow  ; 

Immortal  voices  call  him  blest, 
Eternal  glories  crown  him  now. 


62  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


OUR  FRIEND  FOURSCORE. 

When  the  brow  of  age  is  beauteous 
With  the  light  of  Virtue's  star, 

There  is  joy  and  peace  eternal, 
There  is  youth  no  age  can  mar. 

Trembling  steps  and  form  are  then 
Tokens  of  a  home  near  by  ; 

He  shall  cross  its  threshold  when 
His  appointed  days  shall  fly. 

Do  not  call  our  good  friend  old, 
Words  of  joy  leap  from  his  tongue  ; 

For  his  life  is  manifold, 

And  the  signs  that  he  is  young. 

lie  can  smile  for  gladness  yet, 
He  can  speak  the  mirthful  word ; 

And  his  heart  doth  not  forget 

What  his  chilhood  knew  and  heard. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  63 

He  can  see  his  boyhood's  days, 

He  can  see  the  village  school ; 
See  his  groves  and  childish  plays, 

In  the  forests  deep  and  cool. 

He  can  see  the  running  streams, 

And  the  willows  bending  low  ; 
See  the  mild  but  radiant  beams 

Of  the  moonlight  come  and  go. 

* 
Thinks  he  of  his  chilhood's  tears  ? 

Of  the  darkness  and  the  light  ? 
Thinks  he  of  his  vanished  years, 

In  the  visions  of  the  night  ? 

Voices  of  his  manhood's  prime, 
Chimes  of  happy  marriage  bells  ; 

Voices  of  his  happiest  time, 

Greet  him  with  their  sweet  farewells. 


Voices  from  the  homestead  ring, 

Where  the  fires  once  blazed  so  bright ; 

Where  his  household  used  to  sing, 

When  the  hearthstone  glowed  with  light. 


THE    GARDEN   GATE 

Forms  his  heart  and  youth  enshrined, 

In  their  glory  now  appear  ; 
Never  lost  to  heart  or  mind, 

Are  his  friendships  old  and  dear. 

lie  is  witness  more  and  more, 

Of  our  nature's  power  to  bear ; 
Witness,  is  our  friend  fourscore, 

Of  the  joys  that  lighten  care. 

j> 
He  is  more  with  glory  crowned 

Than  are  kings,  with  lands  and  gold ; 
For  his  youth  again  is  found, 

And  he  never  will  grow  old  ! 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  65 


EDWARD  N.  KIRK,  D.  D. 

In  heart-love  and  in  holy  prayer, 

Where  may  a  soul  like  his  be  found  ? 
And  words  like  his  to  soothe  our  care  ? 
To  bid  us  stay  on  hallowed  ground  ? 
And  faith  in  God,  that  never  dies  ! 
And  faith  in  Christ's  own  Sacrifice ! 

In  Prayer  he  seemed  to  take  us  up 

To  Heaven  itself.     His  heart  seemed  filled 

With  life's  pure  stream.     He  took  the  cup 
His  Saviour  gave,  and  drank ;  his  fears  were 
stilled. 

This  life  was  glad  to  him,  because  his  Lord, 

Sang  through  his  soul  in  every  tuneful  chord. 


66  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


THE  SLEEP  OF  HIS  BELOVED. 

"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep," 
The  ages  give  them  perfect  rest ! 

Our  tearful  eyes  need  never  weep 
For  his  beloved  when  they  are  blest ! 

Blest  with  a  peace  that  never  dies, 
The  glorified  have  ceased  to  weep 

Their  song  of  triumph,  hear  it  rise ! 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

On  loftiest  heights  in  heaven's  glow, 
From  valley  and  from  mountain  steep, 

The  same  sweet  tides  of  music  flow, 
•"He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 


AND  OTHER  POEMS.  6T 

At  eventide,  when  silence  reigns 

On  all  the  earth  in  glory  deep, 
A  voice  breathes  in  angelic  strains, — 

"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

Beside  the  graves  of  friends  we  love, 
Where  holy  hearts  ne'er  fail  to  weep, 

This  sentence  whispers  from  above, — 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 


fi8  THE   GARDEN     GATE 


THEY  ARE  WITH  US. 

They  are  with  us  who  have  fled, 
Thus  will  I  be  comforted. 
Viewless  though  my  kindred  be, 
Where  they  are,  they  think  of  me. 

Somewhere  in  the  realm  of  souls, 
Love's  great  ocean  toward  me  rolls ; 
Somewhere,  though  my  faith  must  see, 
Spirit  friends  are  kind  to  me. 

As  a  presence,  they  are  here, 
Witness  to  the  smile  or  tear. 
Witness  that  my  way  is  crowned 
By  a  love  that  knows  no  bound. 

So  my  spirit  talks  with  them  ; 
They  have  won  life's  diadem  ; 
Satisfied  to  know  that  they 
Are  the  angels  round  my  way. 

When  the  love  that  gave  us  birth 
Calls  me  from  this  changeful  earth, 
Fadeless  shall  that  rich  love  be, 
In  the  souls  restored  to  me. 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  69 


BENJAMIN    TYLER    REED. 


Strong  in  his  love  for  high  and  Churchly  thought, 
With  princely  gifts,  that  thought,  by  him  endowed, 

Will  brightly  glow  !     The  life-work  he  has  wrought, 
Years  will  impress ;  dispersing  many  a  cloud 

From  Error's  night.     Hearts  will  go  out  to  him 
In  sacred  love,  till  life's  last  day  is  dim. 

Now  shall  he  live  in  earnest  minds  and  souls, 

Who  run",  on  earth,  their  race  for  heavenly  goals  — 

Toilers  divine,  who  work  for  hallowed  ends  ; 

These  are  Earth's  best,  Earth's  truest,  dearest  friends ! 


70  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


DEPARTED  YEARS! 

Departed  years !  ye  march  in  time, 
With  steps  set  for  the  eternal  shore, 

And  promise  of  that  Eden's  prime, 
Where  life  is  life  forevermore  ; 

Where  all  are  strangers  to  decay, 
And  hope  smiles  not  to  glide  away  ! 

Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  light  and  shade 
Which  over  life  each  day  hath  spread ; 

And  I  have  heard  where  pierced  ones  prayed 
For  quick  relief  among  their  dead  ! 

Where  they  have  wept  for  all  their  slain, 
That  they  might  live  and  love  again. 

0,  as  these  bells  of  Christmas  chime, 
And  thou  departest,  dying  year, 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  71 

The  Child  of  Hope,  in  this  due  time, 
Reborn,  shall  bring  his  presence  here  ; 

And  Faith  and  Peace  our  sky  shall  gem, 
For  his  Judea  and  Bethlehem. 

And  when  our  latest  chimes  have  rung, 
And  we  go  hence  to  find  that  shore 

Of  which  all  holy  bards  have  sung, 

0,  blessed  years,  dawn  there  once  more  ; 

For  then  the  friendships  ye  have  given 
Shall  quicken  all  our  joy  of  heaven. 


72  THE  GARDEN  GATE 


THE  PRESENT  AND  THE  PAST. 

The  present  hour  is  full  of  thought, 

And  full  of  noble  deed  ; 
The  beautiful  and  true  enwrought, 

Soon  find  their  highest  meed  ; 
But  in  the  glory  of  the  Now, 

Its  light  around  us  cast, 
We  know  that  two  great  worlds  are  made, 

The  present  and  the  past. 

Upon  the  parted  years  we  stand, 

As  on  some  mountain's  crest 
And  see  beneath  the  valley  land 

That  once  we  called  our  rest. 
From  youth  to  manhood's  springtide  hour 

We  trace  relations  vast ; 
A  gathered  strength  —  a  glorious  power 

The  present  and  the  past. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  73 

We  look  on  ruins  old  and  gray, 

Some  tower  of  time   laid  low, 
And  then  we  hear  the  ages  say, 

We  justly  come  and  go  ; 
We  rear  our  temples  fair  and  high, 

No  age  before  surpassed  ! 
Oh,  tell  us  which  of  these  may  die, 

The  present  or  the  past. 

Oh,  builders  of  yon  stately  towers, 

Ye  boast  the  present  time, 
Ye  give  unto  her  flying  hours, 

Your  anthem  and  your  rhyme  ; 
Be  thankful  while  the  moments  speed, 

In  circuits  grand  and  vast, 
That  ours  are  gifts  from  heaven  indeed, 

The  present  and  the  past. 


74  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


BARON    STOW,  D.  D. 

*  Translated  with  the  dying  year 
To  Heaven's  serene  unclouded  sphere, 
Why  should  we  say  "  He  is  not  here." 

It  seems  to  me,  they  do  not  die, 
Who  vanish  from  the  mortal  eye, 
The  sons  of  God  are  always  nigh. 

Their  living  presence  is  not  fled 
Though  we  may  call  them  now  our  dead, 
They  are  our  Life- Stars  overhead  ! 

Each  gleam  of  beauty  they  have  given, 
Unfolds  the  ever  glorious  Heaven ! 

Each  gentle  voicing  in  our  ear, 
Hath  made  their  souls  forever  dear, 
So  that  we  feel  their  presence  near ! 

And  memory  oft  will  show  his  face, 
Incarnate  with  a  heavenly  grace, 
In  many  a  chosen  dwelling  place  ! 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  75 

Love  gave  to  him  a  blessed  dower, 
Love  gave  him  all  his  secret  power. 

He  in  a  charmed  circle  moved ; 
We  knew  him  as  the  well  beloved. 

Then  weep  we  not ;  the  preacher  true, 
Who  gave  us  truths  his  spirit  knew, 
Hath  seen  them  now  in  cloudless  view ! 

Let  us  rejoice  that  he  doth  know, 
The  full  immortal,  lifetime's  glow. 

For  he  who  clung  around  the  cross 
Of  Christ,  we  know  hath  met  no  loss. 

There  is  no  night,  nor  darkness  dim, 
For  those  who  sleep  and  rest  in  Him  ! 


76  THE    GARDEN   GATE 


THE   TIDES  OF  LIFE. 

These  surging  life-tides  how  they  flow, 
In  crowded  streets,  in  busy  marts ! 

Here  Mammon  wanders  to  and  fro 
To  seize  and  hold  the  human  hearts. 

0  voice  of  strife,  0  greed  for  gold, 
When  may  your  histories  all  be  told  ? 

In  souls  that  hide  their  deepest  woes, 

Through  hands  that  strangely  grasp  the  prize, 

Behold  the  dreamy  vision  goes, 
To  rise  and  fall  before  our  eyes. 

To-day  a  gleaming,  brilliant  light; 
To-morrow,  darkness  death  and  night ! 

Yet  who  would  hard-earned  wealth  despise, 
Or  honest  fortune's  lap  of  gold  ? 


AND     OTHER   POEMS.  77 

For  riches  lend  to  mortal  eyes 
A  crown  of  glory  manifold  ; 
No  temple  in  its  beauty  stands 
But  wealth  upreared  it  with  her  hands. 

Yea  Life  itself  waits  at  her  gates ; 

Essential  food  and  raiment  tell ; 
And  those  who  scorn  her  true  estate 

Will  surely  sink  to  penury's  hell ; 
And  this  is  why  the  poor  have  fled 

Sometimes,  to  meet  their  kindred  dead. 

Still  holy  Hope  looks  far  beyond 
These  life-tides  in  their  rise  and  fall ; 

Faith  smiles  on  us  when  we  despond, 
And  points  to  glories  made  for  all ; 

And  0  that  all  were  truly  wise 

To  build  their  mansions  in  the  skies ! 


78  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


«  GRANT  US  THY  PEACE." 

Grant  us  thy  peace  0  Lord  of  all ! 
This  inmost  strife  is  hard  to  bear  ; 
We  stand,  we  soar,  and  then  we  fall, 
Our  joys,  our  griefs  are  turned  to  prayer  ; 
No  thought  no  deed  but  stirs  some  power 
That  bids  the  night  through  day  to  lower. 
We  find  no  rest ;  our  feet  must  go 
When  thou  dost  call,  come  joy  or  woe  ; 
In  vain  we  bid  our  sorrows  cease  ; 
Grant  us,  0  Lord,  thy  boon  of  peace ! 

Within  the  war-note's  dire  alarm, 
Within  the  dark  unrest  is  known, 
There  dwell  the  hosts  of  foes  that  harm, 
That  keep  us  from  the  conqueror's  throne. 
What  towers  of  strength  those  foemen  hold ! 


AND  OTHER    POEMS.  79 

What  mines  of  purest  spirit-gold  ! 
Send  thou  some  angel,  stronger  still, 
And  ours  shall  be  thy  sovereign  will. 
In  our  submission,  is  release  ; 
Grant  us,  0  Lord,  thy  perfect  peace. 

Grant  us  thy  peace  !  then  earthly  things 
Shall  work  our  blessedness  alone, — 
And  we  may  quaff  those  living  springs 
Which  we  now  long  to  call  our  own. 
Our  prayer,  our  praise,  for  aye  the  same, 
Is  blessed  with  thy  most  holy  name  ! 
Life's  struggling  tides  shall  never  cease  ; 
Grant  us,  O  Lord,  thy  perfect  peace  ! 


80  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


OUR  PERFECT  DAYS. 

Fairer  than  our  fairest  gaze, 
Are  the  visioned,  fadeless  realms ; 

We  have  looked  on  perfect  days, 
As  creation's  diadems. 

Perfect  days  give  out  such  light, 
We  can  in  our  souls  read  well 

What  is  given  to  inner  sight  — 
Where  the  grand  perceptions  dwell. 

Hope  and  Faith  on  perfect  days, 
Seem  to  show  new  glories  here  ; 

And  our  souls  are  filled  with  praise, 
That  the  open  Heaven  is  near. 

Then  the  full  heart  of  old  Time 

Is  o'erflowing  in  its  store, 
And  we  know  our  day  sublime 

Comes  to  stay  forevermore  ! 


AND     OTHER    TOEMS.  81 


MRS.  HARRISON  GRAY  -OTIS. 

The  sacred  heart  of  silence  keeps 

The  richest  treasures  of  our  dead  ; 
There  is  a  star  whose  radience  shines 
On  them  in  beauty's  deepening  lines, — 

A  star  of  Hope  ;  and  we  are  led 
By  that  unto  a  heavenly  plain, 
Where  angels  sing.     Each  music  strain 
Makes  life  and  love  grow  pure  again. 

The  bells  have  tolled  for  one  whose  heart 

Bespoke  itself  in  deed  and  truth  ! 
It  spoke  in  works  that  ne'er  depart, 
And  told  its  own  immortal  youth  ; 
And  in  rich  memories  shining  forth 
From  East  and  West,  and  South  and  North, 
The  soldier  will  pronounce  her  name 
With  reverence.     For  we  proudly  claim 
Such  names  as  hers,  the  land  to  crown, 
And  send  them  to  the  aires  down. 


82  THE    GARDEX     GATE 


THE  WORLD  ABOVE  US. 

The  bending  skies  above  are  blue, 
And  the  horizon  gleams  with  stars ! 

The  days  are  born  from  thence  anew, 
And  worlds  are  in  night's  silvered  bars. 

There  mountains,  hills,  and  vales  arise, 
To  the  great  seers  that  look  within  ; 

While  each  eternal  mansion  lies 

Afar  from  this  world's  death  and  din. 

There  oceans  in  full  grandeur  roll, 
And  rivers  in  their  beauty  glide  ; 

The  sweet  voiced  singers  of  the  soul 
With  music's  chorus  charm   the  tide ! 

And  there  the  city  of  our  God, 

With  pearly  gates  and  golden  floors, 

Sends  light  and,  glory  all  abroad  — 
Stands  night  and  day  with  open  doors. 


*  AND    OTHER   POEMS.  88 

World  upon  world  and  light  on  light, 
Star  upon  star  sends  forth  its  glow, 

While  coursing  glories,  pure  and  bright, 
Like  eddying  currents  come  and  go. 

What  hearts,  what  souls  are  radient  there  ! 

What  lives  sublime  in  courses  run  ! 
What  blessed  toil,  what  hallowed  care, 
Where  work  celestial  is  begun  ! 

More  worlds  than  one !     In  every  realm 
There  must  be  life  that  hath  a  voice  ; 

For  life  is  being's  diadem, 

And  God  doth  in  his  works  rejoice. 


84  Till]    GARDEN    GATE 


THOMAS   BULFINCII. 

This  is  not  death.     'Tis  pleasant  sleep. 
0  why  should  we  who  love  him  weep  ? 
This  frame  may  sink  back  to  the  sod, 
The  soul  has  risen  to  its  God  ! 

How  beautiful  these  features  are  ! 
And  radient  as  some  morning  star, 
That  from  the  east  its  light  has  shed 
To  tell  the  gloom  of  night  has  fled. 

How  beautiful  his  life  has  been, — 
So  free  from  touch  and  deed  of  sin  ; 
How  beautiful  the  soul-lit  smile 
That  lingers  on  these  lips  the  while  ! 

How  beautiful  his  presence  seemed, 
The  true  ideal  we  have  dreamed 
A  human  life  perchance  might  be, 
Though  tossed  on  Time's  tempestuous  sea. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  85 

V 

How  fiting  arc  these  hymns  and  prayers, 
That  speak  his  rest  from  mortal  cares ; 
For  he  has  passed  the  valley  dim, 
And  sung  e'er  this  the  triumph  hymn. 

One  look, — the  last  we  give  him  here  ; 
Yet  in  the  spirit's  gathering  sphere, 
In  worlds  where  not  one  dear  life  dies, 
Our  risen  friend  shall  meet  our  eyes  ! 


80  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


A    SUMMER'S    RHYME. 

Where  is  glory  ever  living, 
To  the  earth  forever  giving, 
More  than  heart  or  word  can  tell  — 
See  it  in  the  forest  dell. 

Where  are  hues  whose  brilliant  showing, 
Far  outshine  the  diamond's  glowing  ? 
See  them  in  the  lights  that  rise, 
In  the  near  and  distant  skies. 

Where  is  beauty's  soul  displayed, 
If  not  in  the  welcome  shade, 
And  the  roses  and  the  flowers, 
And  the  sunshine  of  the  hours  ? 

Where  are  songs  most  dear  and  sweet, 
And  the  sound  of  tripping  feet  ? 
Ask  the  evening  shade  that  falls, 
Ask  in  pleasures  festive  halls. 


AND    OTHEU    POEMS.  87 

"Where  are  Faith,  and  Hope,  and  Love  ? 
Ask  the  shining  heaven  above  ; 
Where  the  joys  that  ne'er  depart  ? 
Ask  the  trusting  human  heart. 

Seek  and  find  in  Nature's  fane, 
Where  her  joys  supreraest  reign; 
In  the  garden,  in  the  bower, 
In  the  sunshine,  in  the  shower. 

Overhead  are  arching  skies, 
Underneath  a  carpet  lies  ; 
Walls  of  azure,  up  and  down, 
And  the  trees,  like  pillars,  crown. 

Vain  is  all  the  seeker's  art, 
If  he  loses  faith  and  heart, 
Nature's  ages  onward  roll, 
Only  for  an  open  soul. 


T1IE    GARDEN    GATE 


AMONG   THE    ROSES. 

We  \valk  among  the  roses 

In  summer  gardens  fair, 
Her  blooms  are  all  around  us, 

Her  perfumes  sweet  and  rare. 
The  skies  with  smiles  are  lighted, 

The  winds  their  fine  harps  play ; 
Who  calls  this  earth  the  blighted  ? 

Behold  its  perfect  day ! 

We  walk  among  the  roses 

Where  rushing  streamlets  run, 

When  life  in  its  young  glory, 
*  Is  summer  time,  begun  ! 

What  joy  is  wrought  within  us, 
What  beauty  finds  its  way, 

To  every  spirit  seeking 
A  life  without  decay ! 


AND    OTTIER    POEMS.  89 

We  walk  among  the  roses, 

Where  nature's  light  is  made 
The  welcome  pf  the  morning  — 

The  welcome  of  the  shade  ! 
Her  choral  anthems  ringing, 

In  vain  we  tune  to  words, 
We  leave  her  voice  of  singing 

To  all  the  tuneful  birds. 

We  walk  among  the  roses 

In  summer  gardens  fair, 
We  bless  the  skies  above  us, 

We  bless  the  cool,  soft  air. 
Oh,  let  us  keep  in  blossom, 

These  gardens  fair  of  ours, 
And  bring  the  heart  of  summer 

To  all  our  spirit  bowers. 


90  THK    GARDEN    GATE 


VOICES  OF  THE  BAYS. 

I  hear  the  voices  of  the  days 

Come  -whispering  through  the  silent  night: 
"  Where  hast  thou  led  thy  spirit's  ways, 

Since  brightly  shone  the  morning  light  ? 

"  Where  were  thy  footsteps  longest  seen  ? 

To  whom  thy  hand  of  friendship  given  ? 
To  whom  hast  thou  a  presence  been, 

A  light  whose  radiance  led  to  heaven  ? 

"What  word  for  truth,  what  deed  for  love 
Has  from  thy  being  sent  its  glow  ? 

What  soul  uplifted  far  above 

The  waves  of  grief,  is  thine  to  show  ? 

"  What  hallowed  thought  of  duty  kept, 
What  gift  of  faith  what  soul  of  prayer? 

What  evil  passion  hast  thou  swept 

Out  .from  thy  soul,  that  tried  thee  there  ?" 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  91 

I  hear  the  voices !     Ere  I  sleep, 
How  they  rebuke  and  give  me  pain ! 

They  tell  me  how  I  sow  and  reap, 
And  garner  up  life's  golden  grain. 

'Tis  here  and  there  a  little  gold  ; 

A  little  gain,  or  wondrous  loss  ; 
My  inward  life  is  manifold, 

Where  is  my  crown  to  bless  my  cross  ? 


92  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


WE    MAY  NOT   TELL. 

We  may  not  tell  what  hidden  power, 

Lies  in  the  present  living  hour, 

Nor  how  the  words  therein  we  speak 

May  keep  the  strong,  and  soothe  the  weak  ; 

Nor  how  our  deeds  have  might  to  thrall, 

Or  bless  the  mightiest  of  us  all. 

How  smiles  of  love,  or  flashing  scorn, 

Bring  daylight's  gleams,  or  evening's  on  ; 

How  smallest  look  of  ours  may  lift, 

Or  send  a  soul,  out  sea,  adrift ! 

May  give  affliction's  tides  to  swell, 

Or  lands  of  peace  wherein  to  dwell ! 

We  may  not  tell,  we  may  not  tell ! 

We  may  not  tell,  what  one  true  heart, 
Of  life,  of  beauty,  may  impart 
To  Freedom's  course,  when  to  its  foes 
The  ranks  of  holy  patriots  close  ; 
When  voice  and  arm  as  one  combine, 
To. fix  .the  ^Right's  embattled  line. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  93 

To  swear  allegiance  to  the  land 
Of  mountains  high,  and  valleys  grand  ; 
To  vow  that  by  her  dower  of  right, 
Her  stars  shall  never  set  in  night ! 
Though  heroes  die,  and  dirges  swell, 
How  bright  their  names  in  ages  dwell, 
We  may  not  tell,  we  may  not  tell ! 

We  may  not  tell  what  lowly  cot, 
One  life  hath  made  a  hallowed  spot ! 
What  virtue  from  some  poor  unknown, 
Hath  lifted  weakness  to  a  throne  !- 
What  prayer  of  meekest  soul  hath  done 
To  help  a  true  life's  victory  on  ! 
What  faith  hath  saved  us  in  that  hour 
When  hope  and  ti-ust  seemed  not  its  dower ; 
When  far  above,  the  darkened  skies 
Were  like  a  midnight  to  our  eyes  ! 
Oh!  let  this  thought  within  us  dwell, 
And  bind  life's  Ages  with  its  spell ! 
We  may  not  tell,  we  may  not  tell ! 


f)4  T1IK     GAUUEX    GATE 


THANKSGIVING  HYMN. 

(Tn  War  time.) 

Give  thanks  ;  the  corn  and  wine  are  still 

Our  portion  as  of  yore  ; 
The  harvest  sheaves  our  garners  fill, 

With  plenty's  welcome  store  ! 

The  generous  seasons  well  have  done 

Their  Heaven  appointed  part ! 
The  flowers  have  bloomed  beneath  the  sun, 

And  gladness  filled  our  heart. 

The  skies  have  looked  serenely  down 

Upon  our  furrowed  soil ; 
Storms  have  broken  the  cloud's  dark  frown ; 

Success  hath  crowned  our  toil ! 

Give  thanks  around  the  festive  board  ; 

Bring  there  the  truest  cheer  ; 
There  be  the  Nation's  God  implored, 

To  bless  the  closing  year 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  95 

AVhat  though  AVG  miss  some  friend  of  old  — 

His  presence  cease  to  view, 
Now  let  our  thanks  be  manifold  ; 

The  endless  life  is  true ! 

What  though  the  battle  rages  on ; 

And  noble  heroes  fall ; 
Give  thanks  !  our  Freedom  is  not  gone  ; 

She  stands  and  crowns  us  all. 


96  THE     GARDEN    GATE 


THE    SOLDIER'S   LAST    MESSAGE. 

A  Soldier's  last  words  on  the  battle-field,  -\vere  :    "  Cling  to  the 
dear  old  Flag; —  Cling  to  the  cross  of  Christ.' 

Soldier  lay  thee  calmly  down, 

In  the  fierce  strife  with  the  strong, 

Winning  at  the  last  thy  crown, 
Sing  thy  triumph  song. 

* 

Well  hast  thou  two  battles  fought, 
One  without,  and  one  within  ; 

Well  thy  life-work  hath  been  wrought, 
Let  thy  rest  begin. 

»    Toilsome  marches  thou  hast  seen, 

Want  and  woe  full  oft  been  thine  ; 
Yet  thy  heart  was  all  serene, 
And  thy  faith  divine. 

Every  deed  which  thou  hast  given, 
Every  power  that  thou  hast  shown, 

Deepens  now  our  trust  in  heaven, 
Leads  us  near  the  throne. 


AND     OTHER   POEMS.  97 

But  the  words  which  at  the  last, 
Breathed  the  fulness  of  thy  soul, 

Never  will  be  lost  or  passed, 
While  the  ages  roll. 

"  Cling  unto  the  dear  old  flag  ;" 

"  To  the  cross  of  Christ  still  cling ;" 

Memory,  with  those  blessed  words, 
Is  a  sacred  thing. 

Favored  Nation  !   speak  the  praise 
Of  that  God,  who  from  the  dust, 

Lifts  the  fallen  hero's  gaze, 
To  the  mount  of  trust. 

Linger  there  by  faith  'and  prayer, 

Watch  till  shadows  flee  away, 
Till  the  sweet  and  balmy  air 

Speaks  the  dawning  day  ! 


98  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


THE   CONQUEROR  OF  ALL. 

Let  all  who  choose,  spurn  hallowed  thought, 

And  only  delve  in  earthly  soil ; 
There  is  a  life  with  glory  fraught, 

A  grandeur  in  all  mental  toil. 
The  man  who  lifts  with  brawny  hands, 

The  hidden  ores  from  mine  and  sod, 
Hath  in  his  soul  sublimer  land 

Than  all  these  outward  realms  of  God. 

The  farmer  when  he  sows  his  seeds 

Broadcast  upon  the  furrowed  ground, 
Discerneth  well  his  future  needs, 

In  harvest  sheaves  together  bound. 
There  is  a  beauty  and  a  grace 

In  all  to  which  his  hand  is  given, 
He  sees  in  Nature's  faultless  face 

The  matchless  symetry  of  Heaven. 


AND  OTHER    POEMS.  99 

'Tis  Thought  that  makes  the  regal  mind, 

That  gems  and  stars  the  human  brow  ; 
The  soul  by  her  is  Avell  refined, 

And  to  her  mandates  monarchs  bow. 
Great  thrones  and  empires  soon  must  fall, 

For  them  be  no  memorial  found  — 
The  Soul  is  conqueror  over  all, 

For  she  is  blest,  and  saved,  and  crowned  ! 


100  THE    GARDEN     GATE 


LIGHTEN  OUR  DARKNESS. 

Lighten  our  darkness,  Lord  of  Light 
Disperse  from  us  the  shades  of  night. 
The  night  is  deep,  where  shalhwe  go, 
But  to  thy  sunlight's  blessed  glow  ? 
We  grope,  we  grieve,  are  lost,  are  lone 
0  guide  us  to  thy  spotless  throne  ! 
The  twilight  of  our  being  raise 
Unto  thy  starlight's  hallowed  gaze, — 
From  starlight  to  thy  crowning  day, 
Which  takes  our  darkest  shades  away. 

Lighten  our  darkness  Lord  of  Light ! 
Afar  the  day  gleams  on  our  sight, 
The  distances  lie  distant  still, 
We  wait  the  moving  of  thy  will. 
The  valleys  where  dim  footsteps  go 
Are  full  of  music,  sweet  and  low, 
Which  sounds  from  thy  angelic  choirs, 
To  kindle  all  our  high  desires  ! 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  101 

"We  long  from  darkness  to  upsoar 
Where  night  enfolds  us  nevermore. 

Lighten  our  darkness,  Lord  of  Light ! 
Guard  thou  our  slumbers  through  the  night, 
"Watch  o'er  .the  world,  where  our  repose 
Is  watched  by  friends  and  watched  by  foes ; 
Where  gloom  and  brightness  interblendj 
Till  sleep  and  deathlike  stillness  end. 
When  thy  eternal  morning  breaks 
The  spell  this  earthly  slumber  makes, 
For  all  the  blackness  of  the  night, 
Give  us  thy  glory,  Lord  of  Light ! 


102  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


BEAUTY  OF  THE  PSALMS. 

Through  the  soul-inspiring  Psalms, 
Israel's  sweet  and  holy  Psalms, 
Rest  I  in  Jehovah's  arms. 

For  the  blessed  psalmist  brings 

Images  of  holy  things, 

From  the  mighty  King  of  kings. 

And  I  feel  an  awe  divine, 
When  I  trace  each  sacred  line  ; 
See  God's  radiant  glory  shine. 

Then  the  Temple's  vail  seems  rent, 
And  I  linger  there  content, 
Listening  to  the  message  sent. 

Trust  and  wait ;  his  coming  see  ; 
Heaven-sent  angels  cling  to  thee  ; 
As  thy  day,  thy  strength  shall  be. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  103 

Then  I  stand  entranced  and  gaze, 
While  the  voiced  soul  of  praise 
Tells  me  of  eternal  days. 

Never  can  my  soul  deny 
That  profound  celestial  cry, 
Thou  to  God  art  very  nigh. 

For  the  music  of  the  Psalms, 
Finds  me  with  uplifted  palms, 
Resting  calmly  in  God's  arms. 

Whispering  to  me  thus,  he  saith, 
I  who  breathe  in  thee  my  breath, 
I  am  Lord  of  life  and  death. 

Through  the  valley  I  will  lead  ; 
Of  my  sheep  who  with  me  feed, 
J  good  Shepherd  am  indeed ! 

Take  my  staff,  and  take  my  rod, 
Drink  my  life-stream,  child  of  God, 
That  which  courses  all  abroad. 

I  will  surely  comfort  thee, 

When  thou  rowest  through  the  sea  — 

Guide  thee  straightway  unto  me. 


104  THE  GARDEN  GATE 

Thou  shalt  fear  no  evil  then ; 
Evil  is  for  earthly  ken, 
Not  for  true,  immortal  men. 

Of  all  singers,  King  of  kings, 
This  and  more  the  Psalmist  sings, 
And  rich  comfort  to  me  brings. 

When  I  praise,  and  when  I  pray, 
This  grand  singer  cheers  my  way, 
And  I  whisper  day  by  day, 

While  the  angels  wait  on  high, 

And  the  seraphim  do  cry, 

Psalm  nor  Psalmist  ne'er  shall  die. 

God  of  singing,  pure  and  sweet, 
By  this  power  my  soul  complete  ; 
Make  me  for  thy  presence  meet. 

Let  me  reach  to  thine,  my  arms  ; 
Clasp  in  thine  my  spirit  palms, 
And  my  life-chants  be  these  Psalms! 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  105 


A  GOLDEN  TRUTH. 

'Tis  a  golden  truth  that  love  seeks  love, 
That  souls  do  meet  in  a  kindred  way, 
Where  the  soul-love  is,  the  heart  must  stay ; 

That  love  divine  is  the  Spirit  Dove, 
Of  the  stream  of  life  that  wends  its  way. 

'Tis  a  golden  truth,  love  cannot  die ! 
It  moveth  on  in  its  heavenly  course, 
And.  it  bows  alone  to  its  own  true  source  ; 
It  hath  no  wings  of  its  own  to  fly 
Away  from  the  soul  in  its  own  blue  sky. 

'Tis  a  golden  truth  that  love  is  true  ; 

Though  the  soul  be  dark  with  an  earthly  mist, 
That  soul  by  the  heart  of  love  is  kissed, 

Till  the  life  is  ransomed  through  and  through  ; 

'Tis  a  golden  truth  that  love  is  true. 


106  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


BIRTHDAY    POEMS. 

To  TT.  D.,  1872. 

If  new  born  light  on  thee  should  dawn. 

On  this  thy  new  birthday, 
Be  thankful  for  the  rising  morn, 

That  promises  to  stay. 
For  sunshine  is  the  gift  of  God, 

It  falls  around  our  door ; 
It  goldens  every  pathway  trod, 

With  joy  forevermore. 

A  river  of  great  gladness  rolls 

Close  to  our  lives  unseen  ; 
There's  music  in  all  human  souls  — 

A  heavenly  life  serene  ; 
And  this  is  the  grand  miracle : 

Why  grieving  life  moves  on, 
When  what  was  once  a  glorious  spell 

Is  vanished  and  is  sone. 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  107 

Life  is  a  mystery  deeply  hid, 

That  day  by  day  unrolls  ; 
That  we  should  lose  it,  love  forbid  ; 

The  heart  must  reach  its  goals. 
0  cross  of  pain !  0  crown  of  light ! 

We  cry  in  every  hour, 
Where  is  our  peace  in  day  and  night, 

And  life's  reviving  power. 

The  Infinite  has  ordered  all ; 

He  knows  our  changeful  race, 
And  keeps  within  his  spirit  call 

Our  inmost  dwelling  place. 
How  wondrous  is  that  way  of  His, 

With  all  its  starry  shine  ! 
How  fearfully  sublime  it  is  ! 

The  way  of  "  thine  and  mine." 

He  knows  our  birthdays  in  His  heart ; 

His  eye  to  every  one 
Doth  give  its  own  allotted  part, 

And  watch  till  day  is  done. 
Clad  in  his  robe  of  matchless  hue 

The  souls  of  men  are  seen; 


108  THE    GATTDE5T     GATE 

0  what  are  we  in  His  review  ? 
0  what  does  Being  mean  ? 

Now  let  Him  answer.     We  are  blind 

To  see  the  first  and  last, 
Will  he  not  prove  forever  kind 

In  life's  most  stormy  blast  ? 
God  grant  that  when  this  life  is  o'er, 

Our  souls  may  sweetly  say 
That  life  which  changed  forevermore 

Has  here  its  best  birthday  ! 


To  \V.  ».,    1873. 

There  are  birthdays  of  the  soul ; 

What  shall  thine,  0  good  friend,  be  ! 
Birthdays  of  the  years  that  roll, 

Hear  them  whisper  unto  thee  ; 
Life  is  God's  great  trust  to  men, 

And  the  years  that  come  and  go 
Tell  of  a  sublimer  ken, 

Which  the  blessed  ones  shall  know. 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  109 

There  is  gold  in  every  mind, 

Barkened  though  the  mind  may  bo  ; 
There  are  wells  of 'thought,  refined  ; 

There  is  Being's  crystal  sea  ; 
And  the  bright  etern.il  years, 

Free  from  doubts  forever  run  ; 
Here  is  freedom  from  all  tears, 

Through  the  Father  and  the  Son. 

Thus  my  thoughts  to-day  are  turned, 
.     When  I  think  of  years  that  roll ; 
Think  the  highest  truth  is  learned 

In  the  silence  of  the  soul ; 
And  I  say  within  my  heart, 

Give  the  old  years  all  their  due, 
Let  us  bid  them  all  depart, 

Let  us  welcome  in  the  new. 

Is  not  this  a  beauteous  clime, 

Wherein  mortals  briefly  stay  ? 
When  a  moment  is  their  time, 

When  a  morning  gilds  their  way  ? 
Knowing  this  how  grand  the  aim 

Of  our  living  here  should  be, 


110  THE    GARDEN    GATE 

Trusting  in  the  Holy  Name, 
Making  all  things  pure  and  free. 

0,  these  birthdays !  soon  they  cease  ; 

We  shall  move  to  other  spheres, 
Into  worlds  of  endless  peace, 

Born  of  the  undying  years. 
Then,  on  some  eternal  height, 

On  some  mount  of  God,  sublime, 
We  shall  view  with  calm  delight 

All  the  birthdays  of  our  time. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  Ill 


THE    PEACE    OF    GOD. 

Thy  peace,  0  God  !  when  will  it  come  ? 

We  are  unrestful  in  this  world  of  care ; 
We  find  no  peace  ;  all  things  are  dumb, 

Unto  our  speech  when  moulded  into  prayer ; 
Dark  heavy  mists  move  round  us,  we  are  sad 
To  see  no  Eastern  Star,  with  glory  clad ! 
Earthward  we   move,   toward  Heaven  our  feet 

move  slow ; 
Night  fills  the   realms    where   daylight  beams 

should  glow ; 

Light  up  the  skies  that  o'er  our  pathways  bend. 
Vouchsafe  to  keep  us,  Lord,  till  life  shall  end ! 


112  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


CHRISTMAS  BELLS. 

0  Christmas  bells,  that  chime  once  more  ! 
Toll  out  the  blessed  days  of  jorc ; 
Toll  out  the  hearts  that  have  not  died, 
Toll  out  the  souls  now  glorified. — 

Now  chime  and  ring, 

Now  ring  and  sing, 
One  sweet  good  will  o'er  land  and  tide  ! 

Sweet  pealing  bells,  loud  chiming  bells  ! 
Ring  out  the  year's  sublime  farewells  ; 
Ring  out  the  glad  notes,  ever  young, 
Breathed  for  the  shepherd's  heart  and  tongue 

Now  peal  and  ring, 

Now  ring  and  sing, 
The  sweet  good  will  the  angels  sung. 

Glad  Christmas  bells  !  grand  Christmas  bells ; 
O'er  mount  and  vale  your  music  swells  ! 
Ye  cannot  hush  your  murmers  sweet, 
Ye  make  Creations's  song  complete  ; 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  113 

Ye  ring  and  sing, 
Ye  sing  and  ring, 
Till  Time  keeps  time  with  joyful  feet. 

Dear  ancient  bells,  old  chiming  bells  ; 
Old  hymns,  all  glorious  with  their  swells, 
Go  sounding  on  in  every  peal, 
Till  memory  laughs  and  weeps  to  feel 

That  when  ye  ring, 

And  when  ye  sing, 
Old  Time  hath  many  a  wound  to  heal ! 

Chime,  Christmas  bells  !  sound  Christmas  bells  ! 

O'er  all  the  lands  your  cadence  swells, 

A  tone  that  never  can  depart 

Fom  him  who  hath  a  human  heart  — 

Then  ring  and  sing, 

And  sing  and  ring, 
O'er  hill,  o'er  vale,  o'er  town  o'er  mart ! 


114  THE    GAKDEX    GATE 


EMPIRES. 

Empires  of  thought,  of  word,  and  deed 
Arise,  and  shine,  then  pass  away  ; 

Their  heroes  and  their  martyr's  meed 
Is  that  they  live  alway. 

Eternal  friendship  speaks  their  praise  ; 

Immortal  memory  sings  their  name  ; 
Time  glories  in  their  crowning  days, 

And  gives  them  endless  fame. 

They  voiced  the  truth, —  they  would  not  give 
A  falsehood  wings  to  cleave  the  air  ; 

They  bade  old  error  cease  to  live, 
To   die   in   dark   despair. 

They  spoke  for  freedom  and  for  God, 
Of  victories  that  the  right  should  gain ; 

The  paths  of  .sacrifice  they  trod, 
In  want,  and  care,  and  pain. 


AXD    OTHER   POEMS.  115 

And  therefore  hallowed  is  the  grave, 
Blessed  by  their  memory's  guiding  star, 

The  deathless  and  the  parted  brave 
Who  with  the  ana-els  are. 


•o* 


Forget  them  not ;  we  may  behold 
In  vision  that  heroic  throng ; 

And  learn  that  beauteous  lives  enfold 
The  world's  enduring  song. 


116  THE  GARDEN  GATE 


LOVING    AND   KNOWING. 

Ho  who  loves  God's  will  shall  know 
How  His  Spirit's  breath  doth  blow, 
Till  the  secret  influence  given 
Opens  all  the  doors  of  Heaven. 

He  who  met  his  Lord  bj  night, 
Found  his  everlasting  light 
In  the  Master's  Truth  that  spoke, 
Which  the  darkened  heavens  broke. 

So  the  soul  that  walks  alone, 
Looking  toward  the  heavenly  throne, 
Peering  through  these  prison  bars, 
Shall  behold  its  crown  of  stars. 

As  the  winds  of  earth  do  play 
In  the  night  and  in  the  day, 
So  all  seasons  of  earth's  time, 
Show  the  world  of  truth  sublime. 


AND    OTHER  POEMS.  117 

We  may  ask  as  one  of  old, 
How  can  these  things  e'er  be  told  ? 
Who  among  the  sons  of  men 
Shall  on  earth  be  born  again  ? 

Then  the  Master's  voice  shall  speak, 
0  ye  faithless,  0  ye  weak, 
Lore  of  ages  have  ye  learned, 
And  this  truth  not  yet  discerned  ? 

In  the  depths  of  being  given, 
Find  the  holy  heights  of  heaven  ; 
In  the  soul  thy  rest  must  be, 
And  the  home  that  comforts  thee  ! 

Here  His  gifts  have  blissful  power, 
Here  is  thy  eternal  dower  — 
Seeking  him  by  day  and  night, 
See ;  the  Master  gives  us  light. 

Thus  0  seeker  of  the  Lord, 
Take  the  meaning  of  His  Word, 
Till  His  Spirit  shall  unfold 
Gates  of  pearl,  end  streets  of  gold. 


113  THIi    GARDEN    GATE 


EASTER    HYMN. 

Bring  flowers !  bring  flowers !  'tis  Easter  dawn  ; 

Bring  music's  cheering  tone  ! 
The  Spring  hath  symbolized  the  morn, 

That  man  may  call  his  own. 

Bring  flowers !  the  font  and  altar  wreathe  ! 

Chant  psalm  and  gloria  here  ! 
Hark  !  voices  full  of  gladness  breathe 

Hymns  for  the  Christian  Year. 

The  risen  Christ  of  God  behold  ! 

Immortal  life  He  brings ! 
He  opens  now  the  streets  of  gold, 

Our  song  of  triumph  sings  ! 

The  sealed  sepulchre  He  breaks 

"With  strong  Almighty  hands ; 
While  at  his  feet  all  Evil  shakes, 

And  bow  the  ansel  bands. 


AND  OTHER    POEMS.  119 

He  rises  !     They  who  seek  him  now, 

Will  seek  him  not  in  vain ; 
Eternal  light  is  on  his  brow, 

The  Conqueror's  cross  is  gain  ! 

Bring  flowers  !  bring  flowers,  to  beautify 

These  temples  of  our  peace  ! 
The  Lord  is  risen,  we  shall  not  die, 

Though  all  things  earthly  cease. 

The  hosts  of  Hell  shall  harm  no  more, 

The  souls  that  would  be  free  ! 
Our  victory  waits  us  on  the  Shore 

Of  Immortality ! 


120  THE    GARDEN     GATE 


EASTER    MORNING. 

Easter  Morning  dawns  again  ! 
Sing,  as  once  on  Judea's  plain 
Sweetly  broke  the  Christmas  strain. 

Christ  hath  risen !     From  the  tomb 
Bursts  the  flower  of  endless  bloom ! 

Christ  hath  risen !     Man  shall  rise 

• 

TVith  his  Lord,  to  Paradise. 

Sin,  and  death,  and  fearful  hell 

By  his  power  forever  fell ; 

Sing,  0  earth  !  His  victories  tell. 

Risen  with  Him,  the  morning  star ! 
Risen  where  tears  nor  changes  mar ! 
Risen  all  his  followers  are  ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  121 

Bring  the  first  flower  of  the  Spring, 
And  the  joyous  anthem  sing, 
"While  ye  give  the  offering. 

Flowers  once  crowned  the  paths  He  trod 
When  He  pressed  this  earthly  sod, — 
Were  they  not  the  flowers  of  God  ? 

Easter  morning  dawns  again  ! 
Sing,  as  once  on  Judea's  plain 
Sweetly  broke  the  Christmas  strain  ! 


122  THE   GARDEN   GATE 


THE  CHURCH  OF  GOD. 

When  the  Church  of  God  is  loving, 

When  her  words  are  strong  and  truo  ; 
She  will  show  the  ancient  beauty 

That  her  first-born  ages  knew. 
Then  her  saints  were  crowned  with  glory, 

Then  her  living  powers  were  bright ; 
Then  her  prayer  and  song  and  story, 

Shone  with  Heaven's  resplendent  light. 

When  the  Church  of  God  is  holy, 

She  in  Christ's  stead  will  be  near 
To  the  needy, — to  the  lowly, 
To  the  sons  of  slavish  fear. 

She  will  lead  the  feet  estraying 
On  the  mountain  bleak  and  cold  ; 


AND    OTHER   TOEMS.  123 

She  will  mould  to  deeds  her  praying, 
Till  the  wanderers  reach  the  fold. 

Blessed  with  ritual,  calm  and  peaceful, 

Blessed  with  praise  in  hymn  and  prayer, 
Like  the  psalmist  sweet  of  Israel, 

She  will  comfort  earthly  care. 
For  the  joy  or  grief  that  seals  us 

Pilgrims  on  a  mortal  shore, 
She  hath  some  accordant  voicing 

For  our  heart  loves  evermore. 

Age  and  youth,  to  her  are  winsome, 

She  hath  graces  free  and  pure, 
She  hath  solaces  unspoken 

For  the  ills  that  must  endure  ; 
She  doth  point  her  faithful  people 

To  that  grand  unclouded  sky, 
Where  at  last  our  souls  are  victors, 

On  the  hills  of  God  Most  High. 

• 

Oh,  for  life  and  death  !  how  radient 
Is  the  Gospel  Word  she  tells ; 


124  THE     GARDEN    GATE 

Of  the  mighty  Resurrection  — 
When  the  Easter  Anthem  swells  ! 

When  the  Lord  of  all  the  living, 
Doth  each  earth-born  foe  subdue, 

And  His  life  eternal  giving, 
Maketh  in  us  all  things  new. 

But  his  Church,  baptized  in  glory, 

We  may  not  in  time  express  ; 
Only  in  her  world  immortal, 

Beameth  full  her  holiness. 
Let  us  heed  her  spirit's  urging, 

That  we  love  her  ancient  ways, 
Till  by  her  fruition  lifted, 

We  the  perfect  Godhead  praise. 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  125 


AT   THE   PARTING    OF  THE  WAYS. 

At  the  parting  of  the  ways, 

Standing  on  time's  winding  shore, 

Looking  with  an  upward  gaze, 
Glance  we  toward  the  evermore. 

At  the  tide  that  meets  us  there, 
Deathless  souls  are  joy-inspired, 

Glimpses  of  the  Heavens  to  share, 
And  the   mansions  long  desired ! 

Not  until  that  crystal  wave 

Reaches  to  our  very  feet, 
Do  we  know  the  good  we  crave, 

And  the  kindred  whom  we  meet ! 

Only  here  a  faint  light  gleams 
On  the  pilgrims  by  our  side, 

Only  there,  where  daylight  beams, 
Souls  transfigured,  by  us  glide  ! 


126  THE    GARDEN     GATE 

Let  us  read  Life's  Book  in  love  ; 

Think  how  changeful  time  must  seem, 
As  the  Star  of  Hope  above 

Shines  for  hearts  that  toil  and  dream ! 

Each  his  own  load  has  to  bear, 

Each  his  burden  to  uphold  ; 
Kind  for  us  may  be  their  prayer, 

Though  our  hearts  may  deem  them  cold. 

For  the  heart  of  man  is  one 
Throbbing  in  electric  thrills 

When  a  noble  deed  is  done, 

When  a  true  soul  thinks  and  wills. 

When  the  humblest  work  of  souls 
Soon  or  late  in  triumph  stands, 

Gladness  like  an  anthem  rolls 
O'er  the  near  or  distant  lands. 

Still  this  truth  a  truth  remains : 
Never  till  a  good  man  dies 

Do  we  feel  what  soulful  gains 
That  one  being  underlies ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  127 

lie  has  shed  refreshing  dews 

On  our  paths  of  earthly  strife  ; 
He  has  brought  new  worlds  to  view, 

In  his  grand  eternal  life  ! 

In  his  bright  ascension  hour 

He  has  laid  on  us  his  hand, 
And  we  feel  that  blissful  power. 

Human  love  may  understand. 

At  the  parting  of  the  ways, 

Standing  on  a  wave-washed  shore, 

Blessed  is  our  upward  gaze, 

Glancing  toward  the  evermore  ! 


128  THE  GARDEN  GATE 


THE   FOREST   WANDERER. 

Where's  our  dear  child  ?  where's  our  pet  ? 

In  the  forest  lingering  yet ! 

All  the  shades  are  round  her  thrown, 

Leaves  and  flowers  are  round  her  blown  ; 

By  the  singing  streams  she  glides, 

Gazing  on  their  coursing  tides, 

With  a  bright  and  beaming  eye, 

Looking  low  and  looking  high, 

Looking  to  the  heavens  above, 

Full  of  soul  and  full  of  love. 

Where's  our  good  child  ?  where's  our  pet  ? 
She  hath  staid  the  time  we  set, 
We  must  soon  her  ways  explore, 
Bring  her  to  the  household  door. 
Evening  must  not  dim  the  sun, 
E'er  our  searching  is  begun  ; 
Silence  must  not  gird  us  round, 
E'er  our  roaming  pet  be  found  ; 


AND     OTHER   POEMS.  129 

Evening  star-lamps  soon  will  burn, 
Let  us  haste  the  child's  return  ! 

Where's  our  good  child  ?  where's  our  pet  ? 

Stranger  child  we  never  met ! 

Brave  yet  gentle,  firm  yet  mild, 

Well  she  loves  the  dingles  wild  ! 

In  the  sunshine  in  the  showers, 

She  is  roving  midst  the  flowers. 

Straying  far  and  straying  still, 

Let  us  seek  her  where  we  will ! 

E'er  the  evening  star-lights  burn, 

Let  us  haste  the  child's  return. 

So,  forevermore  we  sing 
Of  all  loves  to  which  we  cling  ; 
When  we  meet  and  when  we  part, 
So  forever  speaks  the  heart. 
Distant  lands  the  forms  divide, 
Spirits  linger  side  by  side  ; 
And  we  say  of  those  who  roam, 
We  will  give  them  welcome  home  ; 
Evening  star-lamps  must  not  burn, 
Till  our  dear  ones  all  return  ! 


132  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


MY  NATIVE   LAND. 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

She  stands  on  Truth's  and  Mercy's  side, 
She  keeps  at  memory's  golden  gate 

The  brave  Avho  bled  for  her  and  died. 
She  lives  in  power  —  the  soul  of  law  — 

Makes  her  a  presence,  free  and  strong  ; 
She  thrills  the  patriot's  heart  with  awe. 

She  grandly  chants  sweet  freedom's  song. 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

Her  deeds  are  like  the  morning  star, 
Whose  radiant  beams  make  day  elate 

With  light  and  beauty  from  afar. 
Upon  her  hills  the  Church  of  God, 

Shoots  up  her  heaven-ascending  spire  ; 
And  classic  shades,  our  feet  have  trod, 

Gleam  forth  with  learning's  sacred  fire. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  133 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

She  listens  to  the  suppliants  cry, 
And  they  whom  bondage  binds  to  fate, 

Look  to  Columbia,  e'er  they  die  ! 
She  stretches  forth  her  welcome  hands 

To  them  who  faint,  in  life's  long  race  ; 
And  to  the  poor  of  other  lands 

She  gives  a  home  and  dwelling-place. 

My  native  land  !  God  bless  her  name, 

And  on  her  brow  his  honors  shed  — 
Hold  in  His  hand  her  well  earned  fame, 

Nor  let  her  rest  with  nations  dead. 
From  every  clime,  and  land,  and  sea, 

His  guiding  eye  her  sons  implore  ; 
His  hand  lead  on  to  victory, 

And  bid  her  rise  to  fall  no  more  ! 


132  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


MY  NATIVE   LAND. 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

She  stands  on  Truth's  and  Mercy's  side, 
She  keeps  at  memory's  golden  gate 

The  brave  who  bled  for  her  and  died. 
She  lives  in  power  —  the  soul  of  law  — 

Makes  her  a  presence,  free  and  strong ; 
She  thrills  the  patriot's  heart  with  awe. 

She  grandly  chants  sweet  freedom's  song. 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

Her  deeds  are  like  the  morning  star, 
Whose  radiant  beams  make  day  elate 

With  light  and  beauty  from  afar. 
Upon  her  hills  the  Church  of  God, 

Shoots  up  her  heaven-ascending  spire  ; 
And  classic  shades,  our  feet  have  trod, 

Gleam  forth  with  learning's  sacred  fire. 


AND    OTHER    POEMS.  133 

My  native  land  is  good  and  great ! 

She  listens  to  the  suppliants  cry, 
And  they  whom  bondage  binds  to  fate, 

Look  to  Columbia,  e'er  they  die  ! 
She  stretches  forth  her  welcome  hands 

To  them  who  faint,  in  life's  long  race  ; 
And  to  the  poor  of  other  lands 

She  gives  a  home  and  dwelling-place. 

My  native  land  !  God  bless  her  name, 

And  on  her  brow  his  honors  shed  — 
Hold  in  His  hand  her  well  earned  fame, 

Nor  let  her  rest  with  nations  dead. 
From  every  clime,  and  land,  and  sea, 

His  guiding  eye  her  sons  implore  ; 
His  hand  lead  on  to  victory, 

And  bid  her  rise  to  fall  no  more  ! 


134  THK    GARDEN    GATE 


IN    THE    MORNING. 

In  the  morning  we  shall  rise, 

We  shall  rest  awhile  at  first, 
Then  in  Heaven's  serener  skies, 
We  shall  lift  our  blessed  eyes, 
Where  our  life  divine  is  nurst ! 

We  shall  all  retire  at  night, 
By  the  evening's  starry  light ; 
We  shall  all  our  eyelids  close, 
In  our  sweet  and  deep  repose  ; 
In  our  night-time,  we  shall  be 
Dreaming  on  life's  boundless  sea  ! 
We  shall  sleep,  yet  hear  the  roll 
Of  the  surges  of  the  soul ! 
We  shall  see  our  night  depart, 
And  the  Day-spring  fill  our  heart ! 


•AND    OTHER   POEMS.  135 

One  by  one,  the  shades  will  fly, 
As  the  full  day  gems  the  sky  ! 
"We  must  work  life's  little  day  ; 
Toil  with  patience  when  we  pray  — 
Something  from  our  life  must  go, 
That  our  Master's  Hand  may  show 
To  the  eyes  that  waken,  where 
Heaven  and  our  good  angels  are  ! 
Never  can  life's  work  be  done, 
Never  can  a  setting  sun 
Lull  us  there,  to  deep  repose  ! 
There  our  life  stream  ever  flows  ! 
There  our  manhood  finds  its  best  — 
Finds  its  everlasting  rest ! 

We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but  rise, 
Glory-crowned,  in  Paradise  ! 
Made  alive  in  Christ,  the  Word, 
His  sweet  voice  within  us  heard, 
Endless  death  shall  take  its  flight ! 
Night  will  merge  in  morning  light ; 
And  that  morning  light  will  stay, 
When  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  ! 


136  THE     GARDEN    GATE 


THE  DYING  YEAR. 

Glorious  days  are  smiling  round  us, 
While  the  leaves  and  flowers  are  sear. 

And  a  soul-entrancing  beauty 
Crowns  the  autumn  of  the  year. 

Can  it  be  the  year  is  dying, 
When  her  brow  is  fair  and  calm, 

When  her  words  are  kind  and  gentle, 
And  her  breath  is  but  a  balm  ? 

See  !  a  light  that  is  supernal 

Rests  upon  her  placid  face  ; 
So  her  blessings  are  eternal, 

Deathless  memories  now  have  place. 

She  hath  lived  to  purpose  grateful, 
Brightened  many  earth  abodes, 

Counselled  many  weary  pilgrims, 
Travelling  o'er  life's  misty  road 


AND     OTHER    POEMS.  137 

She  hath  lifted  too  the  burdens. 
From  the  time-worn  and  the  weak ; 

And  hath  bidden  lips  of  sorrow, 

Words  of  cheer  and  gladness  speak. 

Let  the  hearts  which  round  her  linger, 

Shrine  her  in  each  deep  recess, 
Fixing  memory's  magic  finger, 

On  her  wondrous  loveliness. 

Through  the  stillness  of  the  forests, 

And  the  silence  of  the  dells, 
Come  the  murmered  dirgeful  echoes 

Of  the  dying  year's  farewells. 

And  the  human  heart  doth  follow, 

Wailing  over  all  things  sear  — 
O'er  the  fast  receding  radiance, 

Or  the  dying  of  the  year ! 


138  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


A    WORLD'S  INVOCATION. 

Grief-bound  is  the  wide  Creation, 
Waiting  for  its  restoration  ; 

Praying,  God  of  mercy  spare  us, 
For  the  Heaven  of  love  prepare  us ; 

Take  us  from  the  realms  of  error, 
Chase  away  our  night  of  terror ; 

Turn  the  straying  footsteps  rightly, 
Make  the  darkened  hearts  shine  brightly  ; 

Friend  Almighty,  deign  to  save  us 
From  the  tyrants  that  enslave  us. 

Chastner,  Keeper  of  the  lowly, 
Send  to  us  thine  angels  holy. 

To  thy  longing  faint  Creation, 
Bring  the  day  of  restoration ; 


AND  OTHER    POEMS.  189 

Bring  the  day  when  grief  shall  vanish, 
And  thy  voice  the  wrong  shall  banish ; 

Bring  the  lost  ones  old  and  hoary, 
Bring  thou  all  souls  home  to  glory ; 

Make  thy  Kingdom  universal, 
Earthwide  be  thy  love's  rehearsal ; 

Father  of  the  whole  Creation, 
Bring  the  day  of  restoration ! 


140  THE    GARDEN     GATE 


THE  GIFTS  OF  THE  EARTH. 

The  gifts  of  earth,  in  summer, 

Are  mild,  reviving  showers  — 
The  sunbeam  and  the  shadow, 

Its  ever  beaming  flowers  ; 
The  rainbow's  tinted  gleaming, 

The  songs  of  bird  and  rill, 
The  evening  stars'  glad  beaming, 

When  all  is  hushed  and  still. 

The  gifts  of  earth,  in  autumn, 

Are  fruits  of  labor  bold ; 
The  faithful  sower  reaps 

In  harvest  time  his  gold. 
It  twines  the  wreath  of  gladness 

Around  that  son  of  earth, 
As  he  turns  from  care  and  sadness, 

To  his  joyous  household  hearth  ! 

The  gifts  of  earth,  in  winter, 
Are  blessed  gifts  to  man, 


AND     OTIIE3    TOEM3.  141 

The  trophies  of  his  labor, 

That  he  the  past  may  scan, 
And  view  in  memory's  mirror  - 

Each  joy  and  grief  passed  by, 
And  read  the  heavenly  favor 

In  sunbeams  on  life's  sky. 

The  gifts  of  earth,  in  spring  time, 

Are  sparkling  river  streams, 
And  gently  opening  flowers, 

In  the  sun's  restoring  beams. 
They  come  and  go  like  shadows 

Athwart  each  sunny  ray, 
And  as  the  shower's  bright  rainbow, 

They  beam  to  pass  away. 

One  season  is  unfading  — 

The  spring  time  of  the  mind  ; 
]t  hath  no  final  shading, 

But  lasting  gifts  refined. 
The  gems  of  thought  shall  ever 

Increasing  beauty  wear, 
To  cheer  man's  path  to  Heaven, 

And  crown  with  glory  there. 


142  THE    GARDEN     GATE 


BEAUTY    IX    DECAY. 

Is  there  no  beauty  in  decay, 

In  fading  leaves  and  flowers  ? 
Go  see  the  roses  fade  away, 

With  autumn's  gliding  hours  ; 
Go  watch  the  changes  of  the  skies 

At  day,  or  golden  even  ; 
Then  say,  if  glory  may  not  rise, 

In  nature's  clouded  heaven ! 

Is  there  no  beauty  in  decay  ? 

Mark  well  the  singing  streams  ; 
Behold  them  coursing  on  their  way 

Like  dreamers,  in  their  dreams. 
Look  on  the  stars  and  twilight  shade, 

Look  on  the  midnight  gloom 
And  see !  ah  see,  a  glory  made, 

For  nature's  living  tomb. 

Is  there  no  beauty  in  decay  ? 
Go  to  deserted  bowers, 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  143 

And  hear  low  voices,  whispering,  say 
Where  are  my  buds  and  flowers  ? 

Where  are  the  vines  that  round  us  clung, 
The  birds  that  used  to  sing  ? 

And  these  shall  answer  with  a  tongue 
Prophetic  of  the  spring  ! 

Is  there  no  beauty  in  decay  ? 

Ask  thou  the  silent  grave 
That  hides  the  loved  from  sight  away, 

That  hath  no  gift  to  save, 
And  that  shall  answer :    these  shall  rise  ! 

I  keep  the  golden  grain, 
Till  angels  from  celestial  skies, 

Shall  bind  these  sheaves  again ! 


144  THE  GARDEN  GATE 


A  VOICE  TO  THE  SINGEftS. 

Singers  in  your  glorious  spheres, 

Living  in  God's  endless  years, 

Once  ye  sang,  on  earth,  through  tears. 

Here  in  many  haunts  of  woe, 
Went  your  footsteps  to  and  fro, 
Knowing  what  we  do  not  know. 


o 


Inward  struglings,  long  and  vain, 
Days  and  nights  of  care  and  pain, 
Ye  can  never  know  again. 

By  unwelcome  fortune  led, 

Where  the  lost  and  wandering  tread, 

Starving  for  your  daily  bread  ; 

Starving,  while  a  world  of  wealth, 
Stole  your  inmost  life  by  stealth, 
And  your  spirit's  holy  health. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  145 

While  it  called  your  way  a  crime, 
Waste  of  poor  man's  thought  and  time, 
Took  the  blessing  of  your  rhyme. 

Now  your  night  of  grief  is  o'er, 
Earth  will  think  of  you  the  more, 
And  your  sinning  thought  implore. 

They  who  spurned  you  from  their  side, 
From  their  rank  and  wealth  and  pride, 
Now  behold  you  glorified  ! 

Singers,  in  your  glorious  spheres, 
Ye  shall  sing  no  more  through  tears  ; 
Yours  are  God's  eternal  years ! 


THE    GARDEN    GATE 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

There's  a  fair  and  beauteous  city, 

Where  life's  endless  streams  shall  roll, 

It  is  not  a  far-off  city 

'Tis  the  City  of  the  soul ! 

There  the  streets  are  long  and  winding, 

Leading  unto  many  a  goal, 
Wondrous  tides  of  being  finding, 

In  the  City  of  the  soul ! 

Light  is  there,  and  glory,  shining  ; 

Thought  is  there,  that  hath  control ; 
Bay  is  there,  each  way  divining, 

Through  the  City  of  the  soul ! 

There  are  temples  of  pure  praises, 
Where  the  hymns  of  music  roll ! 

And  the  spell  that  music  raises, 
Charms  the  City  of  the  soul. 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  147 

There  the  path  of  life,  still  courses 
On,  by  nature's  sweet  control  — 

Nature,  by  her  silent  forces, 
Crowns  the  City  of  the  soul ! 

There  are  nights  of  spirit  terror, 
Where  the  darkest  oceans  roll ; 

There  are  deepest  shades  of  error, 
Round  the  City  of  the  soul ! 

But  the  blackest  night  is  transient, 
Streams  of  life  from  azure  roll ! 

Lights  celestial  yet  are  shining 
In  the  City  of  the  soul ! 


148  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


LIFE-TIME'S    DREAM. 

I  know  that  life  is  full  of  dreams, 

The  human  heart  is  not  at  rest, — 
That  heart  more  glorious  than  it  seems, 

Seeks  out  a  world  serene  and  blest. 
I  know  it  by  the  gleaming  eyes, 

That  droop,  or  rise  with  grief  or  joy  ; 
I  know  it  by  the  smiling  skies 

That  hover  round  the  happy  boy  ! 

He  has  his  dreams  of  rare  delight, 
His  eyes  expectant  look  afar  ! 

He  sees  his  wished-for  goal  in  sight ; 
He  will  not  see  his  evening  star ! 

Life's  morning  glory  sheds  its  rays 
Upon  his  fair  uplifted  brow, 


AND     OTHER   POEMS.  149 

And  visions  of  his  coming  days, 

Impart  their  peace  and  beauty  now  ! 

Behold  him  gladsome  in  his  plays, 

And  earnest  in  each  word  and  tone  ! 
How  strong  is  he  in  childish  ways, 

How  well  he  loves  to  walk  alone, 
How  pure,  how  loving  is  his  love, 

Unknown  in  depth,  or  breadth,  or  height, 
Like  that  which  lives  for  him  above, 

And  guards  him  on  his  couch  at  night ! 

Oh  !  childhood  is  a  type  of  truth ; 

An  image  manhood  well  may  wear, 
The  joys  that  charm  and  lead  our  youth, 

May  cast  their  spell  round  manhood's  care. 
Let  shadows  leave  at  last  life's  stream, 

The  real  hath  forms  forever  new  ; 
Each  speechless  thought,  each  day-born  dream 

Is  but  an  earnest  of  the  true  ! 

So  would  my  spirit  ever  say, 
Unto  the  man,  and  to  the  boy, 


150  THE   GARDEN    GATE 

Thou  hast  in  time  but  one  brief  day ! 

Oh  make  that  day,  one  day  of  joy ! 
We  know  that  every  varying  gleam, 

la  brightening  in  its  inward  glow, 
And  while  each  life  must  have  its  dream, 

No  life  can  be  a  fleeting  show  ! 


AND  OTHER   POEMS.  151 


THE  POWER   OF   DEEDS, 

Oh  !  not  alone  by  thought  and  words, 
Is  power  increased  within  the  soul ; 

Deeds  reach  and  touch  the  tenderest  chords, 
Deeds  make  the  spirit  whole  ! 

Something  to  manifest  our  love 

For  man  ;  this  gives  us  power  ! 
Beyond  all  words,  deeds  prove  our  love 

To  be  life's  noblest  dower  ! 

And  souls  are  saved  by  holiest  deeds ! 

It  may  be,  in  some  fairer  clime, 
That  we  shall  meet  the  soul,  whose  needs 

Our  deeds  met  here  in  time  ! 

And  it  may  gladden  us  to  know, 

That  happy  souls,  there  pure  and  free, 

Were  saved  by  us,  from  rocks  below, 
When  they  were  wrecked  at  sea ! 


152  THE   GARDEN    GATE 


THE    SEASONS. 

Let  seasons  come,  and  quickly  go  ; 

They  only  deepen  lives  within, 
The  summer  heats,  the  winter's  snow, 
These  are  the  types  of  all  below, — 

The  types  of  lives  that  we  begin ! 

We  have  our  summer  noontide  heats, 
And  then  the  life's  deep,  fervent  glow  ! 

We  have  the  stormy  blast  that  beats, 
That  whirls  us  through  the  driving  snow, 
While  home  grows  distant  as  we  go ! 

The  rivers  course,  the  oceans  roll, 

The  thunders  peal,  the  lightnings  gleam ! 

All  these  are  in  the  living  soul ; 

Whose  silent,  and  whose  secret  stream, 

Doth  leap  and  sing  to  reach  its  goal ! 


AND    OTHER    POEMS. 

Our  mountains  rise,  our  valleys  sink, 
Our  ways  have  an  uncertain  tread. 

The  founts  are  glad  at  which  we  drink, 
Till  we  remember  some  are  dead, 
Who  with  us,  love's  sweet  ritual  said. 

Our  days  move  on ;   the  light  of  stars 
Is  shed  adown  our  evening  sky ; 

The  moon's  out-shining  silver  bars, 
The  softened  winds  that  whisper  by, 
Betoken  summer's  cadenced  cry. 

The  seasons  yet,  will  come  and  go ; 
One  season  in  our  Eden  lies, 

One  summer-time  in  endless  glow, 
Will  bless  the  pure  immortal  eyes, 
For  there  the  blooming  never  dies ! 


154  THE    GARDEN    GATE 


FANNY   FERN. 

With  heart  heroic,  crowned  by  pain, 
She  conquered  all  her  earthly  foes, 

She  triumphed!  Now  eternal  gain, 
Her  pure  enfranchised  spirit  knows ! 

Great  soul !  so  long  and  sorely  tried  ; 

Such  spirits  shall  be  glorified ! 

Blest  thought !   no  tempests  reach  her  now, 
No  care-worn  toil,  no  unkind  voice ; 

Where  free-born  sons  and  daughters  bow, 
She  lives  now  only  to  rejoice  ; 

And  blessed  in  the  eternal  hours, 

Are  all  her  thoughts  and  all  her  powers ! 

'Tis  well,  the  marble  shaft  should  gleam, 
All  glorious  with  her  honored  name, 

'Tis  well  that  writen  words  should  beam, 
To  tell  the  beauty  of  her  fame  ; 

For  this  can  well  be  said  of  her, 

She  was  a  noble  conqueror  ! 


AND    OTHER   POEMS.  155 


BISHOP   EASTBURN. 

Firmly  he  kept  the  Faith  his  manhood  held, 
As  if  God's  truth  were  all !     His  loyal  heart 
Would  not  let  go.     The  loves  that  found  their  part 
In  him,  were  all  sincere  ;  and  if  he  seemed, 
At  times  to  love  his  will,  his  aims  were  grand  ! 
Such  as  he  thought  we  all  should  understand, 
When  he  was  gone  !     In  every  path  he  trod, 
We  cannot  doubt  he  loved  and  honored  God ; 
And  light  shone  for  him  from  celestial  spheres  ! 
If  e'er  he  wept ;  in  secret  were  his  tears. 
His  eyes  were  lustrous  with  divine  delight, 
Until  the  day  he  parted  from  our  sight. 


156  THE   GARDEN   GATE 


TO   A   SINGER. 

Sing  thou  long  tried  child  of  sorrow, 
Sing  to-day,  and  sing  to-niorrow ; 
Sing,  though  all  earth's  hopes  be  slain ! 
Song  is  born  of  mortal  pain  ! 

Song  is  for  the  heart  enslaved, 
Longing,  crying  to  be  saved  ! 
Song  is  born  with  souls  opprest, 
Daily  praying  to  be  blest. 

Song  is  helper  to  the  holy, 
Song  is  kind  unto  the  lowly  ; 
Voiceful  from  the  vales  of  woe  ! 
Hear  its  music  come  and  go ! 

Judge  not  then  thy  brother's  voicing, 
Though  he  seem  a  soul  rejoicing  ; 
With  the  pure,  the  true,  and  strong, 
Grief  is  ever  blent  with  song ! 


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